A Pirate's Proposal
by A'Rion Larent
Summary: What do you get when you mix Isabela, panties and an irresistible female Hawke? Well, in Andraste's name, it's sure to be epic and full of pirate/mage smut.
1. Chapter 1: The One-night Stand

Author's Note: I wasn't sure if I wanted to write a longer piece with chapters or just make this into a One-shot… I'll probably write more because I can't seem to just stop at one chapter. I hope you all enjoy my little mush between my two favorite characters. Please read&review ^_^.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age II and give all credit to Bioware for their wonderful world and characters.

Chapter One: The One-Night Stand

It had happened without her meaning it to. It happened far more often than she liked, but as she sat on the dirt that passed for a floor in their uncle Gamlen's Lowtown abode, she couldn't deny her desires. Ever since helping that voluptuous pirate at the Hanged Man, Hawke was confused by the heat coursing through her body.

Last night, Isabela had tagged along with Varric to escort Hawke back to the rundown home. Hawke listened intently to Varric's offers of odd jobs and tried her best to ignore how close Isabela walked on her right hand-side. The pirate would throw in a few naughty innuendos here and there which made Varric snort with laughter and Hawke blush profusely. It's not that Hawke was completely innocent, but it had to do with Isabela's comments almost always being unsuccessfully whispered in her ear.

"Alright, well keep in mind that Ser Haron is an avid collector of discarded panties. Don't ask me why; nobles are a strange sort, but it makes for easy profits."

"Thanks Varric, but where in Kirkwall would I find discarded underwear?" Hawke raised an eyebrow as she stood at the foot of the stairs.

"Oh you'd be surprised where you'd find those." It was Isabela who spoke up. "They're everywhere. After all, under clothing isn't of that much importance when your attention is elsewhere. In fact, I believe I've lost of few of my own along the docks."

"Rivaini! I wasn't aware you even wore any." Varric chuckled and continued, "perhaps you could help out Hawke with this since you seem to be so knowledgeable on the whereabouts of misplaced panties." With that he waved a goodbye and started his walk back to the Hanged Man alone.

"How about it Hawke, would you like my help?" The pirate stood mere inches from Hawke.

"How about tomorrow night?" Hawke proposed as her body felt the warmth emanating from Isabela's.

"Why not now?" Isabela closed the gap between the two and pushed Hawke against the wall. "I do owe you one after all." Her smirk was dangerously seductive to the cornered mage.

"I–" the door to Gamlen's excuse for a house creaked open and out came Leandra to Hawke's discomfort. "Mother!" Isabella slowly backed away from the startled mage with a small chuckle. "I don't believe you've met Isabela yet." Hawke eyed the baffled pirate with her best imitation at confidence.

"I don't believe I have." Leandra said with some distrust. "I thought I heard someone out here."

"We never meant to startle you, mother." Hawke apologized. "Isabela was just sharing some very confidential information with me."

Isabela stifled her laughter, which caused Hawke to lay a hand on the pirate's shoulder and send a slight zap of electricity. Isabela flinched slightly but couldn't help but want to laugh all the harder at Hawke's attempts to smooth things over.

"Indeed." Leandra eyed the two warily but decided it was best not to push the topic. "Well dinner is ready. You are welcome to join us, Isabela."

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I have to decline." Isabela pulled away from the mage's grasp. "I just wanted to make sure Hawke returned home nice and safe."

"Very well, Marian I'll see you inside."

As soon as her mother went inside, Hawke turned to look at the pirate's smug expression.

"Marian, is it?"

"It is," Hawke sighed. "I'd rather you call me Hawke. Not a lot of people know my first name. By the way, why were you surprised when I introduced you to my mother?"

"Well look at the time," Isabela looked at a random spot in the night sky. "My spot at the Hanged Man must be strangely vacant; mustn't keep all that booze waiting. I'll see you tomorrow, Hawke."

Hawke sighed again and kicked the dirt on the ground with her weathered boot. Her lips had been so close to Isabela's, and if her mother hadn't come out from the house, Hawke got dizzy from thinking about what might have happened next.

The rest of the night had passed by pleasantly enough save the strange stares her mother was giving her and the even stranger questions that pertained to her relationship with Isabela. She explained to her mother as best she could; she and Isabela had only just met, and tomorrow tonight they would be searching for discarded underwear (she hadn't mentioned that last part.)

Now that the ordained 'pantie-search' night had come, she sat down on the dirt floor, tried to calm her nerves, and began to wonder if her mother ever knew what happened to Hawke's engagement back in Lothering. As the eldest daughter of the Hawke lineage, Marian was expected to marry first, and she had been matched with a local farmer's boy. She liked him enough as a friend, but knew straight away that she could never 'feel' anything for him. She just wasn't interested whatsoever in any kind of romantic ordeal. She didn't want to tell her mother who had been ecstatic at the news when it broke. Arron was the best a mother could ask for in a son-in-law, and he looked absolutely dashing beside her eldest daughter.

Everything would have gone by fine, if Arron hadn't discovered what happens when you try to kiss an unwilling mage. She hadn't meant to do it, not really. As his lips got closer, all Marian could think of was how much she did not want this to be her first kiss, and her magic seemed to heed to her wishes. The poor boy was flung a good ten yards by an unseen gale force before he could get his lips to make contact. Marian apologized profusely but finally understood that she could no longer fool herself in believing that she could love this man.

Arron was understanding of her refusal of his hand, and admitted that he wouldn't want to be partnered with someone who could launch him ten yards away merely by will alone. He hadn't told her mother what had happened, but the engagement was ended nonetheless. Leandra was confused at the abrupt ending, but upon seeing both remain good friends was content with the outcome. Since then Hawke never pursued any form of relationship because she had never felt any attraction… until now. The pirate was surely a master at seduction and Hawke felt like easy enough prey.

"Are you going out tonight sister?" It was Carver who hovered above her.

"Yes, an odd job has cropped up and Isabela has agreed to help."

"The pirate whore?" Carver chuckled. "I wouldn't mind if she _helped_ me every now and then."

Hawke groaned and suppressed the urge to set his trousers on fire. "I don't think your charms would work on her. Slow and obnoxious aren't really her type."

"What's this? A bit defensive aren't we?" Carver smirked and tussled his sister's short, black hair.

With a quick channeling of magic, Hawke zapped his hands away from her, causing him to yelp in shock.

"Let's not forget who is the eldest." She smirked at her brother as she rose from the floor bristling with electric energy.

"And let's also not forget why we have to flee from the Templars." He spat back, now in a sour mood and unable to take part in the game that they used to play in Lothering.

Hawke cut off her magic but kept her smile. Those carefree days in Lothering seemed to be memories from another life. Before the darkspawn and before her father and Bethany had died, life had been pleasant; innocent almost. Back then Carver and her had been dueling partners. Bethany had always been a healing mage rather than a battle mage, so she acted more as a referee. They'd come home with such massive bruises and cut up all over, though if it weren't for Bethany they would have definitely looked worse. Now her and Carver hardly ever spoke without one of them offending the other, and his regard for mages seemed to have fallen to the depths of the Deep Roads and beyond.

Hawke stared long and hard at her brother before she left. Anger spoiled his features and he no longer looked like the boy she had known in Lothering. She exited the musky room and took a deep breath of the outside air. It was a cool night, and even with the smell of garbage and spoiled goods, it was preferable to the damp, sooty smell that made up Gamlen's home.

"Are you ready sweet thing?"

Hawke looked down at the base of the stairs to find Isabella looking up at her, smiling mischievously. She smiled back and gave a slight wave to acknowledge her readiness.

"As ready as one can be on a quest for undergarments."

"It's not that hard. If I had known that there was money in this, I would have stolen at least a good couple of dozens."

The duo laughed and continued to converse as they made their way towards the Docks, a place Isabela swore would be littered with discarded undergarments. Isabela led the way to a stack of crates.

"Now look what we have here." Isabela gloated with glee as she pointed out to a piece of clothing. "What did I tell you?"

"You're right!" Hawke reached out to grab the piece, but Isabela quickly snatched her wrist and gently pulled it away.

"Now, now, Hawke there's some ground rules we should probably go over." She took out her dagger and prodded the garment off of the crate. "Never directly touch underwear that are found on the docks unless you know who's they are."

"You have rules for these kinds of things?" Hawke smirked.

"More like common sense." Isabela teased and led the mage to a different location.

"I knew I lost these somewhere around here!" It was Isabela who had climbed out from behind a hidden section littered with boxes and barrels. "See here, I really like these."

Hawke blushed profusely as she bared witness to a piece of cloth that could hardly be called underwear at all. It was more like lace that happened to be somewhat in the shape of underwear.

"Well what do you think?" Isabela asked with genuine curiosity.

"W,w,what about?" Hawke stuttered and looked towards the floor.

"The underwear you silly goose!"

"I can see how they would be hard to locate…" Hawke's eyes trailed to Isabela's waist and then lower to her pelvic area, "I can also imagine why they'd be carelessly thrown."

"Is that so?" Isabela smirked as she threw her pair in the bag with the others they had collected through the night. "Perhaps you can help me imagine what happened exactly; my imagination seems to have left me at the moment."

"I highly doubt that." Hawke felt her voice become throaty.

Isabela began her advance on the subdued mage, but the sound of drums and other percussion instruments filled the nighttime air causing Hawke to snap back. Isabela bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows in frustration at the loss of Hawke's attention.

"What's that?" Hawke grew curious at the sign of life towards the middle of Lowtown.

"Probably a drunken party in front of the Hanged Man." Isabela retorted

"Let's check it out since we're done here." Hawke smiled boyishly and Isabela, though dismayed that she wasn't going to have sex with Hawke, found that smile irresistible.

Hawke grabbed Isabela's hands and took off for the Lowtown market; to their surprise a festival was being thrown. Lights were lit everywhere, making Lowtown seem more alive and bustling than usual. It had its charm and the usual smell of garbage was replaced by roasting meat and sweets that littered the stalls.

"What is this?" Hawke eyed everything with glee and Isabela couldn't help but notice how excited and childish she looked.

"Rivaini, Hawke, I was hoping you two would show up." Varric called out to them from behind. "Well what do you think?"

"How did you manage this one Varric?" Isabela wasn't used to seeing Lowtown look so… merry.

"That stories a bit too long, even for my tastes, and I don't want to waste the entire time. Why don't you two enjoy the festivities?" Varric smiled and then eyed the full bag in Hawke's hand. "Are those the panties?"

"More than I thought could be found in one dock." Hawke handed the bag over.

"Good job; I'm glad Rivaini was somewhat useful." Varric caught sight of the girls' intermingled hands and raised an eyebrow at the voluptuous pirate.

Isabela caught his stare as well as his questioning look, but only shrugged her shoulders to indicate that it was nothing.

"You don't need to tell me twice, let's go Isabela!" Hawke practically yanked the pirate with inhuman strength and ran straight to a booth that had a bow and arrow laid out with a target at the back of the wall.

"Andraste's tits, Hawke! I think you nearly yanked my arm off!" Isabela commented in mock anger. "Now, what's this?" She eyed the set up and wondered if Hawke even knew how to hold a bow.

"I've always wanted to try this." Hawke looked at the man who was at the booth, "how much is it?"

"You the dwarf's friend? He tol' me bout you. For you it's free."

"Really?" Hawke grabbed the bow without really heeding her unbelieving remark.

Isabella chuckled as she watched the natural mage hold the bow sloppily and almost fell over laughing when she watched Hawke try to place the arrow. Hawke fumbled around with the two a bit more but her arrows always ended up going straight down and nowhere near the target. On her last attempt she almost shot the booth man straight through his head; Thank Andraste he crouched over in laughter at the mage's atrocious bowman skills.

"Here, let me help you." Isabela stood behind the mage and guided her hands. "Bows aren't really my thing, you see, but as a rogue I learned many trades." She placed her lips next to Hawke's ear. "Pull gently at first… good. Now be stern and keep your arms tight. Let go… now." The arrow flew, and while it was no bull's eye, it had at the very least made it onto the target. "See you're not that bad; you just need proper instruction.

Hawke unleashed her boyish smile and thanked the pirate for her aid. Her body quivered from the closeness with the mage, and that made the ache all the more apparent. While Isabela was lost in her thoughts of ravaging the mage, Hawke had already spotted their next destination.

"Isabela this way!" Isabela snapped out of her reverie and looked around to see where her delectable, apostate mage had gone.

"Over here!" Hawke called out again as she received a treat from the booth.

"What have you gotten yourself into this time?" Isabela asked as she strode up behind Hawke.

"This is for you as thanks for your wonderful instruction." Hawke handed her an iced pastry.

"Oh, thank you!" Isabela put the pastry to her lips and bit off a piece. It was good for a Lowtown dessert. Certainly more flavorful than anything she devoured at the Hanged Man. "Delicious."

"Hold on…" Hawke nipped lightly at the corner of Isabela's mouth with her lips. "You're right, delicious."

Isabela was taken aback by Hawke's display of affection. Usually it was she that devised the seduction and played with other's desires. She felt the warmth of Marian's light peck on the corner of her mouth and was somewhat baffled at the strange, flighty feeling in her stomach. Without any protest, Isabela stayed by the mages side the entire night. They enjoyed other snacks and treats, some of which Hawke had to pay for but didn't mind. They had sparred, and much to Isabela's surprise the mage actually put up a good fight, ending the match in a draw. Isabela wasn't sure if Hawke was using magic of some sort, but it was a challenge trying to read her body movement. On another occasion Hawke had definitely used her magic to cheat at one of the booth games. The man was flabbergasted when Hawke managed to land a stone in the very center mug well over 10 feet from where she was standing. Hawke smirked and demanded that she be given the prize that the booth man had been offering– a dagger of extreme beauty. He muttered but handed it over to her nonetheless. Before the night was over, Hawke had managed to down more than a few quarts of alcohol, but Isabela could tell she was nowhere near drunk. They ended up around a bonfire where they were playing drums and other wind instruments. This was just like the fests at Lothering, thought Hawke as she pulled the pirate into the circle to dance with her. Isabela was no stranger to dancing and Hawke took notice. The way the pirate's hips sashayed side to side nearly mesmerized the mage into a type of hypnosis. The mage wasn't without her sense of rhythm either and though not as curvaceous as the rogue, she was a beauty to behold. The men watched in envy, but didn't dare try to interfere as the last man who tried somehow ended up with frost bitten hands, and the second with a black eye courtesy of Isabela. Isabela was humored at Hawke's mischievous side and when she felt the mage pull her hand towards the docks, she didn't complain or protest.

The duo ended up on a dock and let their legs hang over the edge as they sat by each other. Hawke took out the dagger and handed it over to Isabela.

"Here this would compliment you nicely."

"You don't have to give it to me Hawke, you won it fair and… well actually you cheated."

"I did not cheat… I simply used the gifts that the Maker granted me." Hawke yawned as she placed the dagger on Isabela's lap. "Just take it."

Isabela took the gift and looked out towards the ocean. She had never spent a night quite like this. It felt so carefree, so innocent. While Isabela was well acquainted with the former, the latter was mostly lost on her. She looked back down at the dagger and loved how the silver handle shined with the moonlight– it was an undeserved gift. Isabela felt the strange feeling in her stomach again and felt revolted. This mage would get the wrong idea about her if she kept this up. Isabela was a pirate after all, a whore to others and above all a free woman untied by any man or woman no matter how charming their boyish smile proved to be. Just as the pirate rogue was about to set her mage partner straight she felt a weight on her shoulder. She looked to her left and found a mane of black hair resting on her shoulder.

"Hawke?" The mage didn't reply. "You sweet girl… you've fallen asleep."

Isabela sighed knowing that tonight she would not be able to ravage Hawke's body, but strangely enough she wasn't all too disappointed. She would set Hawke straight tomorrow, for sure. She would tell the beautiful mage that all she wanted was a good rut session every now and then, but not to expect any more nights like the one they shared tonight.

"Mmm… Isabela." Hawke murmured in her sleep.

Isabela dared to wrap one arm around the mage's back and pull her closer. She was asleep so it didn't matter; she wouldn't remember anything.

"I wonder what my dream version of me is doing to you right now… that damned bitch is probably getting more than I am." Isabela jested and rested her cheek on the mage's hair. Just for one night she would let her affection roam free.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mark of Greatness

A/N: Aha! I've finally finished another chapter. Thanks to shadowspartan12 for catching the hiccup in the last chapter; I greatly appreciate it. Anyways on to the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2 in any manner or form.

Chapter 2: The Mark of Greatness

Hawke woke with a start and regretted doing so as something solid met with her forehead. She rubbed her head and squinted her eyes open to see an unaffected Mabari crouching above her.

"Feros! I'm not so sure I enjoy this kind of wake up call." She groaned and lay back down. "Why the gawking?" Her eyebrow rose slightly as the Mabari stared intently at her.

"He's probably wondering what his master was doing out all night, and how in all of Thedas she managed to get 'that' on her neck." Carter walked into the room and snickered at his sister's disheveled state.

_That,_ thought Hawke as she traced a finger along her neck. She recalled yesterday and how glorious a night it had been, but didn't recall it being so glorious that she would have anything on her neck.

Hawke rose and went to a small mirror her mother kept from their house in Lothering. Much to Hawke's shame, a small red mark lay at the base of her neck. It was without a doubt Isabela who had left such a mark on her neck, but why couldn't she remember? Carver began to clap his hands.

"It seems you really are courting the whore, after all."

"Jealous, are we?" Hawke retorted. "I remember the first mark a girl gave you was a black circle around your eye; wasn't that thoughtful?"

"Ha. Ha. Very funny sister, just don't let Mother see you with that. I can just imagine how that would break her heart. Not only have you run off with a girl, but with a loose one at that."

"As much as I'd like to entertain your ideas on what Isabela does on her free time, I have other business to attend to. Somebody's got to support this family." She smirked at her brother's grimace and left out the front door. Her brother was such an ass sometimes.

Hawke sighed as she realized that she really didn't want anyone else speculating about the mark at the base of her neck. She looked at the table and was dismayed to see it stark naked of anything useful. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a piece of grey cloth stuck in between the wall and the table. She tugged it out and realized it was just another moth-eaten scarf, but it would have to do. It surely wasn't the most fashionable look but it did well in covering Isabela's piece of work.

Today she had promised to help Aveline out at the barracks, so off to the Viscount's Keep she went. Hawke walked in and was greeted with the backs of many a nobleman and woman. They were squabbling away at some other minor inconvenience or the other, and to think that her Mother had been part of this crowd at one point. Hawke wasn't positive that she wanted anything to do with the nobility in Kirkwall, but as long as her Mother desired to return honor to the Amell name, Hawke would help in getting the estate back. Once at the barracks, she spotted Aveline's orange hair pulled back and went towards her.

"What trouble have you managed to chokehold this time?" Hawke asked.

Aveline turned to address Hawke but stopped short at the sight of the scarf. Hawke fidgeted but kept her veneer of indifference. Aveline couldn't possibly be looking at the scarf; it was all in her head, it had to be.

"What's that?" Aveline went straight to the point as she pointed at the scarf.

"It's a scarf." Hawke responded coolly. "I was feeling a bit cold today."

Aveline eyed Hawke's sleeveless tunic and eyed Hawke warily.

"What?" Hawke held Aveline's gaze and fumbled with her staff. "As I recall you needed my help, or has that changed?"

"No, I still need your help, I'm just wondering what you're up to Hawke."

"I promise you it's nothing." Hawke waved her hand in the air.

"You should leave Hawke to her secrets Lady Manhands."

Hawke nearly jumped at hearing Isabela's voice come from somewhere behind her. She was the last person Aveline would want to see on any given day.

"Who let you in, whore?" Aveline stared hard at the pirate.

"As you may know there is an entrance that is quite big and noticeable." Isabela retorted and stood by Hawke's side. "What's this?" She hovered her fingers above the cloth on Hawke's neck.

Hawke nearly felt the urge to send another shocking spell at Isabela, but didn't want Aveline to have more to go on than she already did.

"We don't need your services here, so it's best that you leave."

"I won't leave unless Hawke orders it, and even then I may choose not to listen." Isabela draped one arm around Hawke's shoulders.

"It'd be best if we all worked together." Hawke conceded and received a groan from the guardswoman.

"So what are we doing?" Isabela was childishly eager to accompany the apostate and guardswomen.

"You aren't _doing_ anything. As far as I'm aware you _do_ too much already at the Hanged Man and the Blooming Rose. I'm up to my neck with charges involving you." Aveline roughly jabbed a finger at Isabela's shoulder. "Hawke and I will be investigating a situation at the alienage." She briskly turned away from the pirate and signaled Hawke to follow.

"Well someone's as tight as Andraste's arse since their promotion to guard captain." Isabela jested as she walked alongside Hawke. "You know Aveline you should join me whenever I go to the Blooming Rose, they have the perfect cure for… well tight-asses such as yourself."

"When I want to become as pliable as you, whore, I'll let you know." Aveline grunted and set off on a faster pace towards the alienage leaving Isabela with the sighing mage.

"I'm surprised she hasn't clobbered you with that shield of hers yet." Hawke sighed as she kept Isabela's pace through Lowtown.

"She wouldn't do that. After all she secretly wishes she could be more like me– curved in all the right places."

Hawke blushed as she reacted by looking Isabela up and down. The Maker himself certainly shaped her to be a goddess of voluptuous proportions. Hawke looked down at her own chest and knew she would never reach the fullness that Isabela claimed; she wasn't completely flat but she wasn't by any means voluptuous. Isabela watched with a twinkle in her eye as Hawke continued to inspect her lack of cleavage.

"I wouldn't worry about yours." Isabela piped up causing Hawke turn a deeper shade of red.

"I, I wasn't…"

"Size isn't everything; it's how you use it that matters." She winked at the blushing mage and laughed as Hawke nodded in acceptance of the pirate's advice.

Once they arrived at the alienage both Hawke and Isabela stopped abruptly at the steps where Aveline stood speechless. Nothing violent had occurred, or at least it didn't look like something atrocious had happened, but something had definitely gone wrong. Isabela drew nearer to the entrance and reached out her hand to touch the red string that practically webbed the whole alienage.

"It's twine…" Aveline stated.

"And it's all over the alienage." Hawke added

"Should I say something to point out the obvious as well?" Isabela chuckled as she cut through a strand.

"Wait!" Aveline grabbed the pirate's wrist. "We don't even know its purpose! What if it's a trap?"

Isabela groaned at Aveline's cautionary manner but kept her blade in hand. Hawke observed the surroundings and noticed that the elves kept to the edge where the twine did not touch. However there were children who were tugging and pulling at it in their play.

"I don't think it's dangerous, look." Hawke pointed to the children. "We should be able to get rid of it."

"Alright let's get to it." Aveline confirmed.

"Hawke how I wish I had the whip you hold over Aveline."

Aveline shot a glare back at the pirate but didn't pursue an argument now that there was something to be done about the strange twine. A resident of the alienage had come stuttering into her office about an "evil" that had "spread about." It was just her luck that she asked Hawke the other day to help out; Aveline thought that blood-magic could be involved.

Hawke collected the twine that Isabella cut and wondered where the blasted twine even started. To say that it was laced everywhere was an understatement. Aveline was clearing up the tree with little to no success; Isabela and Hawke were not faring any better.

A cry shot up from the furthest corner of the alienage and caused Hawke to run towards the victim. A small girl had been caught within the webs of the red twine and was having trouble breaking free. Her elders merely looked on in horror, unsure if it was safe to even touch the twine, regardless of the fact that the three humans were collecting it.

"It's alright, just don't move." Hawke spoke gently to the small, frail elven girl.

Isabela caught up and stood behind the crouched Hawke.

The girl trembled at the sight of the humans, but was slightly comforted by the smile of the short-haired woman in front of her. Her eyes were of a brilliant blue and her smile was gentle.

"Here hold my hand, my name's Hawke." Hawke held out her hand for the girl to take. "My friend here will cut you free."

The elf girl looked up at the woman behind the one that was holding her hand and wasn't sure she was as nice, but if she was a friend of Hawke's then maybe she wasn't so bad regardless of her shady disposition.

"What's your name?" Hawke asked as Isabela went about cutting the various strands that held the child.

"Til." She squeaked.

"That's a beautiful name. Well Til you're free now." Hawke smiled triumphantly up at Isabela who held a good chunk of mashed twine in her hands.

The child wrapped her arms around Hawke and pulled her in for a tight hug much to the mage's surprise. Her heart warmed at the memories it brought back of her home in Lothering. She was a favorite amongst all the children and spent a good portion of her day playing with them or getting them out of trouble. Since she arrived at Kirkwall, there had been no time to enjoy such carefree company. The small, blonde elven girl thanked her hero with a small kiss on the cheek and ran back to her small hut. Isabela watched the heart-warming scene with a smirk. This mage really was something out of a fairy-tale.

No more incidents occurred after that which made their job of collecting the twine go all the more quickly.

"Aha! It ends here!" Aveline observed as the twine went under the door of a resident's home. "Wait this is…" Aveline groaned as she realized whose home she had arrived at. "Merril."

Isabela's curiosity kicked in as they neared the door. She hadn't met Merril yet, but Varric told some very interesting stories about the strange elven girl. 'Daisy this, and Daisy that' was usually how the stories started. Hawke opened the door and follow the twine to a large red ball resting on Merril's table.

"Hawke!" Merril stood up quickly and approached the mage. "You've come to visit!"

"Well actually…"

"Oh you're not here to visit? Sorry, I just assumed with you barging in and all. I'm not saying you have to knock, but… I'm rambling aren't I?"

"It's not that I don't want to visit; I'd love to visit, but I'm here because of this." Hawke held up the red twine.

"You want to borrow some?" Merril cocked her head to the side. Hawke didn't seem the type to get lost so easily.

Isabela's eyebrow arched at the elf's question.

"Merril what were you doing with this twine?" Aveline cut in, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Varric gave it to me in case I got lost like I did the other day. It's been very helpful." Merril smiled.

Isabela broke out into a fit of laughter as she doubled over. Merril jumped a bit at the pirate's reaction and just noticed that she had never met this person, yet here she was in her home.

"Who's that?" Merril pointed.

"That's right, you two haven't met."

Isabela composed herself before walking up to the meek elf. "Varric was right, you have such a lovely persona, isn't that right Kitten? I'm Isabela, captain Isabela."

Merril wasn't sure why this beautiful lady was calling her a small feline, but she didn't mind one bit.

"It's nice to meet you; I've never met a captain before." Merril's eyes sparkled with fascination much to Aveline's disgust.

"We're getting off track." Aveline stated as she took the ball of twine from Merril's grasp. "Merril you can't lace the whole town again. People thought something evil was loose."

"Evil? Why would they think that?"

"Don't you worry yourself too much Kitten, some people are just plain stupid. But there are other things you can do with twine." Isabela wrapped some twine lightly around Merril's wrist, "things that would make little kittens like you purr."

Merril cocked her head again and gave Isabela a quizzical brow.

"Isabela" Aveline growled.

"What Isabela is trying to say is that some people fear what they don't understand." Hawke intervened. "Maybe you could try using a little less twine when you go out, or travel with one of us when you do, or use it for other purposes."

"You would walk with me?" She turned her big, pleading eyes towards Hawke.

"Of course Merril, and I don't live very far from you." Hawke smirked. "It wouldn't bode well if you caught any more children in that red web you left in the alienage."

Merril blushed and nodded as she promised to cut back on her twine. The trio said their goodbyes and headed back to the Keep. Aveline thanked Hawke and disregarded Isabela's crude remarks as they left the guardswoman at the barracks. As Hawke walked back to Lowtown, Isabela decided now would be the perfect time to pick on the mage.

"So… that scarf." Isabela grinned as she observed the stiffness in Hawke's body.

"You know why I'm wearing it." Hawke accused. "You left something."

"Oh did I now?"

"I may not remember, but I'm pretty sure you were the one that brought me home."

"You don't remember?" Isabela feigned a hurtful tone. "Was it that bad? As I recall you were enjoying my attentions."

"What?" Hawke fretted over what Isabela could be implying.

Without warning the pirate pulled the shocked mage into a small, dark alley right beside the Hanged Man, and pushed her against the stonewall.

"Kind of like this." Isabela pulled the scarf off Hawke's neck and pressed her lips where she knew the mark to be. She sucked lightly and drew out the muffled response that she wanted. She pulled away to see Hawke's hypnotized expression and kept their bodies pressed together. "Do you remember now?"

Hawke felt her body surge with heat and excitement as the voluptuous pirate pressed her body onto hers. The deep chocolate eyes of Isabela were pulling her in further as the pirate slid a hand along the mage's thigh. She shook her head and gently pushed the temptress away.

"I don't remember _that_." Hawke looked to the floor and back up at Isabela's disappointed expression. "But…" She grinned and liked that, for once, Isabela seemed caught-off-guard. The mage pushed the pirate to the wall and pressed her lips against the other's jaw line. She suckled lightly on the pirate's flesh, relishing the slight quiver that went through both of their bodies and the soft moan that escaped from Isabela's lips. "I can at least repay you for what I do remember." Hawke pulled herself off of Isabela and walked out onto the street.

Isabela cursed the mage for her teasing, but didn't see it as a complete loss. The mage was interested and she was a good kisser. She was playing a little hard to get and strangely enough Isabela felt up to the challenge. She joined the mage out on the street as the vendors began to close up shop.

"Now you have one too." Hawke eyed the mark beginning to show on Isabela's neck.

Isabela drew close to the mage's ear and whispered, "Ah yes, my own mark of greatness, or as I'd like to think a down payment on the rest of the things you'll do with my body; same goes for yours."

Hawke's cheeks tinged red as her previous courage and deviousness wore off. Isabela laughed as the mage wished her a goodnight and ran off towards her Uncle's shack. One day she would bed the mage, but for now she was content with their continuous foreplay.


	3. Chapter 3: Dealing In Flesh

A/N: So this one was a quick chap and thus a bit unrefined. However, I'll go back through it and add were needed if I must. Thanks for the reviews and hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: Bioware, Dragon Age II, not mine.

Chapter 3: Dealing in Flesh

Hawke fiddled with a sovereign in her hand and flicked it to a moderate-sized chest. Forty-nine sovereigns down and one more to go. It seemed like just yesterday she hadn't been able to rub two bits together, and now she had a small fortune. With this she could support her family, but Varric had promised her more than that with the expedition. He promised her protection; a way to be free in a place that would enslave her for the potential danger she posed to those considered 'normal.' It wasn't that Hawke didn't realize the threat that mages could pose, but it was the encompassing mentality that every mage was a ticking bomb. Mages were no different than regular people. There were mages like her father and Bethany who used their magic to heal and shelter those from the ravages and travesties of battle, and there were mages like the magister Fenris often loathingly spoke of. There were humans that matched the same types, yet the good ones managed to not be shackled up for their potential to do bad.

Hawke rose and slammed the chest shut, making sure to lock the damned thing before she left. She had caught her dear uncle Gamlen trying to pick the lock a couple of nights ago. He said he was only going to 'borrow a little' for some food items, and Hawke wondered what vendor would be selling any products at the dark hours of night. However tonight she didn't have time to worry about her thief of an Uncle; Athenril had offered her a simple job.

"Where are you going?" Carver caught the door just as Hawke was about to leave.

"Athenril has some work and we're only a sovereign short." Hawke spoke without stopping or taking time to look back. "I'll be back soon." She waved and disappeared into the darkness of Lowtown.

She didn't want to put up with Carver's input at the moment. Her brother was growing angrier and bitterer as the days passed by. Not to mention he seemed fond of picking through her love life as if she had one. Hawke absently muttered as she recalled some of the things he had said about Isabela. She hadn't exactly acted the mature sibling when reacting to his statements, and a part of her felt a tad bit guilty for taking a couple of low blows at him, but he simply didn't know when to stop. Hawke shook her head and focused on the area she was just entering. The Red Lantern District was always throbbing with life, light and… Gamlen. Hawke watched from a distance as her uncle walked up to the Blooming Rose.

'So this is where the dirty old man has been disappearing to at night. I suppose since his hovel is occupied by Mother, he can't ply his trade there anymore.' Hawke chuckled as he walked in and she slinked off to a shadowed corner.

"You made it." Athenril stepped into the light. "I was afraid you wouldn't."

"I'm in the need of gold." Hawke peered past Athenril to see what the elf was hiding behind her.

"And I'm glad for it, tonight's deal is a little different."

Hawke grew suspicious and felt as if she was being watched from a distance. She looked to the left and to the right but nothing was there, or nothing that she could make out anyways. Unbeknownst to the mage, a familiar pirate was watching the transaction. Isabela hadn't meant to spy on the mage, in fact when she first caught sight of the mage she was tempted to pounce on her until she caught sight of the shady elf woman. Instead of dragging Hawke into the Blooming Rose as Isabela had planned, she was crouching behind rotten cargo and listening to Hawke's conversation.

"What do you mean by different?"

"As you know I try not to deal in flesh, but…" Athenril pulled a small child with a cloth-bag pulled over their head.

Hawke's eyes opened wide as she began to understand what Athenril was asking her to do.

"This buyer paid a pretty sovereign for this one." Athenril shoved the child towards Hawke and looked away from Hawke's baffled expression. Athenril was no fan of slave trading but this was one deal that beat out her moral superiority.

Isabela watched with furrowed brows as Hawke took hold of the child by the shoulders. Isabela was a thief but human lives were never on the market, and those who dilly-dallied in human trafficking were often the ones she tended to backstab. She watched as Hawke pulled the child closer to her but kept her gaze steady.

"The exchange will happen at the docks, just take the gold and give him the child. It's as simple as that, but I wanted you specifically. They need to know that you can overpower them if they try something stupid. So will you do it?"

"Of course" Hawke answered swiftly and held the child against her.

Isabela almost knocked the crates over as she leaned in to hear Hawke's response. Had Hawke just agreed to sell a young child into slavery? No, no, no she must have heard wrong, there was no way Hawke would ever agree to such a heartless ordeal.

"How much will I be getting?" Hawke asked and this time Isabela managed to make the crates creak and whispered lightly a couple of profane words. Luckily no one noticed.

"I'll give you fifty percent. The brat sold for 20 sovereigns." Athenril frowned as she looked at the child's trembling legs. "Get it over with Hawke."

"Fine." Hawke lifted the child and carried her in her arms as she set off for the docks.

With Athenril gone and hardly anyone out on the streets, Hawke decided to lift the bag over the child's head. It was cold outside and its legs were trembling frightfully. Perhaps the bag would keep them warm until they got to the docks. As she lifted the bag, gold locks of hair poured out and familiar eyes rested on the mage's gaze.

"Til!" Hawke exclaimed as the terrified girl wrapped her arms around her neck.

Hawke held her close and felt hot tears begin to form on the verge of her lids. She had wondered why she hadn't seen Til in the past couple of days. Ever since she had rescued the poor girl from Merril's twine, Til had always greeted her whenever she visited the alienage.

"Don't let him take me." The girl cried as she burrowed deeper into Hawke's neck.

"Shhh, shhh I wouldn't dream of doing any such thing." Hawke set the girl down and kneeled so that she was at eye-level with the young girl.

Isabela watched from a distance the scene that was beginning to unveil and recognized the girl from the alienage.

"I have to take you to the docks, but I won't let them take you. Do you trust me?" Hawke wiped a tear rolling down her cheek.

The small girl nodded and took the mage's hand. Hawke placed the bag over her head once more and lifted her from the ground. Even if it hadn't been Til, Hawke would have never given up the child. From the start she had planned to kill the trader, no matter how many men were present she would have dealt with them.

As Hawke neared the docks, the smell of cheap alcohol and decay began to set in. A small lamp was lit next to a vessel and a stern man stood in front of six others. He looked at her and then at the small child she was carrying and nodded.

"Hand me the child." His gruff voice demanded.

"Hand me the gold first." Hawke demanded and set her staff before her with a loud thud.

The man spat on the floor but signaled one of his men to hand him a full bag of coins. Hawke heard the jingle and quickly sent a wave of ice towards the men in front of her. They shouted in surprise as Hawke pushed Til behind barrels that were out of the way. She poised herself for battle and channeled her magic through her staff producing a brilliant ball of flame in her hand. The men charged her with swords and spears while others drew back to shoot arrows from a distance. She hurled the fireball and shielded herself as the explosion took place.

"You damned mage!" Their assumed leader broke through the flames and raised his blade.

As he brought it down, Hawke raised her staff and blocked his killing blow. She cast a mind blast and stunned the man for a few seconds but the pain that ripped through her thigh caused her to stumble back on her bum. She cursed as she pulled at the arrow lodged in her flesh, but not fast enough to scramble away from the black-bearded man that lifted her from the floor by the roots of her hair.

"You'll be compensation for the mess you've caused. I can think of a few things to do with you."

Hawke gasped for air as he gripped her thin neck with his grubby fingers. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Til still crouching behind the barrels. She sent her last bit of energy throughout her body causing a shock to course through her enemy's limbs. The black-bearded giant came crashing down, but so did Hawke.

"Maker you're so stupid sometimes." Hawke recognized that annoyed tone and smiled as she blacked out from her own spell. Isabela stood by the twitching man and gave him a hard kick in the head.

Isabela threw a smoke bomb, picked up the satchel of gold coins, grabbed Hawke's arm, lifted her up and instructed the small child to follow as she took off the bag from her head. Within minutes the group was out of danger's way for now. Hawke's leg was bleeding profusely and there wasn't any time to stop and patch it up until they got to the Hanged Man.

"You're Hawke's friend." The child piped up.

"That I am." Isabela groaned as she lifted Hawke up the last flight of stairs before getting to her room.

"You'll take care of her, won't you?" Isabela looked down at the small child as she laid the mage on her bed.

"I can't promise anything sweet thing, but she'll be fine tonight." Isabela softened her gaze as she spoke to the girl.

Isabela removed Hawke's pants and, for once, Isabela wasn't focused on the type of underwear that adorned her now pant-less partner. She wasn't a doctor, but she had dealt with wounds before out at sea. Luckily the arrow hadn't punctured any main arteries, but Hawke would likely have a limp the next morning. That fool, she could have died out there. She stitched what she could and placed a bandage around the wounded flesh. All the while Til sat by the mage and ever so often moved the hair out of her face.

"Rivaini!" Varric barged into her room, "you won't believe it, I…" He spotted a half clad Hawke on the bed, a small elven girl and Isabela off to the side. "What in Andraste's ass have you done to Hawke this time?"

"Believe me Varric she's not half-naked for reasons that are usually associated with me, though I wish that were the case." The pirate smirked. "Would you mind getting me a cup of water? I think she's coming to."

Varric rushed off to get whatever could pass as water from the Hanged Man's reservoirs while Hawke groaned on Isabela's rock hard bed.

"Is…abela." Hawke winced as pain shot through her leg. "Where is…"

"Right next to you." Isabela pointed at the small girl at Hawke's bedside.

Hawke smiled as she small girl hugged her and looked back up at Isabela.

"Thank you."

"What were you thinking?" Isabela scolded her.

"I was thinking you'd help when you saw that I needed it."

"You knew I was there?"

"Who else mutters out 'by Andraste's hardened nipples' amongst other things? I knew you were at the Red Lantern District." Hawke began to laugh but the pain caused her to bite her tongue instead. "You were behind the crates, weren't you?"

Isabela grinned at the mage's accusations; she wasn't so stupid after all.

"Why didn't you just call me out?" Isabela asked.

"I figured you would show yourself whenever you wanted to. Did you get the gold?"

"Of course I did." Isabela handed the bag over to Hawke.

"Here," Hawke handed her five sovereigns. "For your ship. You'll need to save up for it." Hawke threw her a boyish grin. "And this is for you Til." She gave the girl ten sovereigns. "With this you and your parents can leave to a safer place." Til nodded but couldn't help her little jaw from dropping at the amount of money that had been given to her.

"Feeling generous aren't we?" Varric returned with a mug. "What happened?"

"This heroic idiot decided to take on a couple of slavers all on her own."

"I had help from another heroic idiot." Hawke added as she handed over the rest of the gold to Varric. "This makes up the entire sum for the expedition, I'll bring the rest by tomorrow."

"Well done Hawke. I'll make sure that girl and her parents get out of Kirkwall safely before we leave." He had grasped the story without being told.

"Thank you Varric."

"Why don't you come with me?" Varric called Til over.

The young elf girl looked down at the mage sorrowfully; this would be the last time she would see her. Hawke smiled gently at her and squeezed her small hand with her own before telling her to go. With a quick kiss to Hawke's forehead Til left her bedside and followed Varric out.

"You know you're going to turn that poor girl into a lesbian right?" Isabela broke the silence.

"Jealous are we?" Hawke jested as she tried to sit up.

"Lay still." Isabela commanded as she gently pushed the mage back down.

Hawke obeyed and observed the different expression that Isabela wore. It was serious, but more than that it was genuinely concerned.

"I'm not jealous," Isabela's mischievous glint returned to her eyes. "After all, I was the one that got to take your pants off." She lightly traced her finger along the mage's thigh and along her panty line.

"T,t,this is not fair." Hawke stuttered but didn't bother to smack Isabela's hand away.

"I never play fair." Isabela purred but drew her hand away. "Now thanks to you my beds taken. There's not much fun to be had with an invalid in bed… well, that's not exactly true."

"It's not like I'm fat." Hawke shifted to the side with a slight wince.

"I don't sleep with people I don't get to rut with, and I definitely don't sleep with those that I do." Isabela explained even as she took a seat on the bed.

"I'll leave as soon as I can. The wound's not too bad." Hawke pulled on Isabela's arm. "You must be exhausted from carrying my limp body all the way over here."

"Is this your way of seducing me, by the Maker it's horrible." Isabela jested.

"No," Hawke blushed, "it's my way of saying thank you."

"I think the five sovereigns covered that."

"Fine I just want you to sleep next to me and not on the floor." Hawke resigned as she threw a hand over her head; Isabela could be so difficult.

"On one condition," Isabela placed a finger on Hawke's lips.

"What's that?"

"The next time you're in my bed, half-naked and what not, will be of your own free will."

"Deal." Hawke replied in earnest much to Isabela's delight, but something about Hawke's tone worried the pirate. However it wasn't something that the pirate wished to dwell on as she climbed into bed. She was one article of clothing and promise closer to her desire of ravishing Hawke.

When it came to dealing in flesh, Isabela knew what to do and how much to pay for what she wanted. What she wanted was Hawke's body and nothing else, or so she kept telling herself. It was the smooth, fair skin and warmth that Hawke possessed that called out to her, _not_ her stupid heroic acts. She would soon rut with the mage and that would be that; one more tally in captain Isabela's sexual escapades. She would only deal in flesh with the mage and leave all else for fools that believed in the virtue of attachment. Isabela closed her eyes and felt the mage rest her head on her shoulder. Isabela sighed as she realized how many rules she was breaking, but Hawke was no different from the others and Isabela would put the mage in her place… eventually.


	4. Chapter 4: Born of Darkness

A/N: So as my readers may have noticed, I tend to make small changes in past chapters even after I post them. I love tiding up and adding a little more dialogue here and there. I hope nobody minds, so I thought I'd go ahead a let everyone know. Anyways thanks for the reviews and follows, enjoy!

* I've made some changes to this chapter! I just realized it wasn't as dark as I wanted it to be. I may add more to make it all the more dramatic, but only time will tell.

Disclaimer: I am but a lowly fanfictioner, all credit for creation of Dragon Age II goes to Bioware.

Chapter 4: Born from Darkness

Everyone lined up as Bartrand shouted at them for being such 'top-side, land-licking' girls. Fenris growled as the man half his size commented on his skinny frame and styled hair, and Isabela rolled her eyes as Varric's brother tried his best to look up her tunic and ask her to join his caravan. She denied his invitation as politely as she could, and pointed out that she hated caves. Dark, damp and closed were never things that tickled her fancy. Underground tunnels with walls everywhere and cramped space, it was nothing like the open sea. Plus if she got in any danger down in those tunnels, it wouldn't be as easy to escape or flee; two of her very best tactics.

"Who will you be taking? They can't all come…" He eyed Isabela with a lustrous glint in his eyes, "except for her, she can definitely come."

"No thanks." Isabela crossed her arms and eyed Hawke with a stubborn expression. "I'd feel claustrophobic."

Hawke nodded and looked at her companions. Varric would be coming without a doubt, and that left two slots open. She felt Carter's glare boring through her face and knew that he would never forgive her if she left him behind. He had fought darkspawn before and that made him somewhat experienced, but he was such a pain in the ass. Her mother had begged her to leave Carter behind and keep him from the dangers that persisted beneath the surface. She knew her mother couldn't bear the thought of losing all three of her children, and after Bethany… well Hawke understood her fear. Regardless of her mother's fears, Carver would end up doing something reckless and stupid if his elder sister left him behind; he'd probably do something ridiculous like join the Templars. What better way to get back at his apostate sister than to join the very order that would force her to wear the Maker awful Circle robes or behead her for protesting.

"Carter, you're coming with me." Hawke signaled for him to come stand by her.

He smiled smugly and took a spot near his elder sister.

She looked at the remaining people and tried to assess who would be the best option. Isabela still had her arms crossed, and even though the mage really would miss her company, she knew the pirate hated the thought of the Deep Roads. Fenris was already seething with anger at Bartrand's comments and Hawke could do without the constant bickering. Aveline seemed ready to go, but Hawke knew the guardswoman had enough responsibility within Kirkwall and taking her would only delay her promotion to guard captain. Hawke eyed Merril who was off chasing a rather large moth and sighed; Merril would definitely get lost if she didn't chain the elf to her waist. That left Anders and he didn't look all too happy, but he seemed to be the best candidate. As a former Grey Warden he would be familiar with the Deep Roads and darkspawn; he was the one that gave them an accurate map after all.

"Anders, will you come with me?"

Anders sighed but replied, "Of course, Hawke." He stood by her side.

"Are you sure Hawke, I could–" Aveline began.

"I know you have a lot to do before you're made guard captain." Hawke gave her a friendly smile. "You'll have enough on your hands with Isabela being left behind."

Aveline groaned but gave the mage a farewell hug anyways.

"I'll keep low while you're gone." Fenris waved his farewell and received a similar goodbye.

Isabela walked up to the mage and whispered in her ear, "I'll try my best at not getting caught by Lady Manhands over here, and I'll be waiting for you to make good on your promise when you come back a rich woman." She nipped lightly at the mage's earlobe and caused Hawke to blush red but her smirk remained.

"I'll try and bring you back something nice. Not a boat, but something nice nonetheless." Hawke jested before she turned to follow Bartrand.

"Wait a second!" Bartrand eyed the bulking dog that trailed behind Hawke. "What's that thing doing?"

"Feros is coming." Hawke left no room for discussion as she patted the dog's head. "Unless you'd like to be the one to tell him that he can't." Feros bared his fangs at the dwarf and lightly growled.

"Bahhh fine." Bartrand threw a hand up in the air and walked away at a slightly faster pace.

"There's a flare in you Hawke." Varric sounded surprised. "I'm almost certain, if my brother had a tail, it would be curling right between his stubby legs."

"I've picked up a few things from my companions after all." Hawke winked and gave a quick glance toward the pirate who was watching her from a distance– it would be a long trip.

The entrance was easy enough to find with Anders' instructions but the rest of the journey was anything but easy. Spiders lined the very rocks that surrounded them, even Feros, who relished the ability to walk around, whined ever so often at the eight-legged creatures that were equivalent in size. Not to mention it was as dark as night and the lamps provided little support when they managed to get off course. Hawke began to understand Isabela's distaste for cramped areas, especially when she had to uncomfortably press up against her companions and for some strange reason it was always Anders that she was pushed up against.

"So Hawke," Anders drew up right beside the weary mage, "why'd you pick me?"

"Pick you? For what?" Hawke asked absent-mindedly as she climbed down from a pile of rocks.

"The expedition."

"Oh, of course," Hawke brushed off her tunic. "You were most qualified."

"Wouldn't you have preferred Isabela?" Anders tested the waters.

Hawke woke up slightly after hearing Isabela's name and raised a brow at Anders' question. "Isabela hates closed spaces."

"I see…" Anders kept by her but felt an awkward silence settle between them. "I'm glad you chose me even though I despise the Deep Roads."

Hawke smiled back but didn't continue the conversation. Anders sighed and kept his thoughts to himself. The young, female mage was very attractive and even though he wasn't looking for a relationship, he wouldn't mind her attention every once and a while. He had bigger things to attend to with his clinic running at all hours of the day in Darktown and with Justice boiling inside of him. He had seen the playfulness between the pirate and mage on various missions, but she had chosen him to accompany her; that had to mean something. The pirate was simply a passing fancy and Anders could offer Hawke so much more than the sleazy-mouthed slut he knew Isabela to be.

The team set up for camp and lay on the hard rock to end the day's excursion. Hawke lay flat on her back with Feros supporting her head. The mabari kept an eye on the other mage who seemed too close for the warrior dog's comfort. With a slight snarl Anders scooted further away until the mabari stopped glaring at him. Varric watched in silence and scribbled down notes in his pad; Blondie had a thing for Hawke and a mabari was keeping him at bay– priceless. Hawke quickly fell asleep, exhausted by the days trekking and began to dream of the woman she missed the most. Isabela had been visiting her nightly escapades for some time now and for the most part they weren't very innocent. Some nights she would wake up in a sweat and was afraid that she had been making some very inappropriate sounds, but no one had informed her of doing so either out of embarrassment or because they were nonexistent. Carver teased her from time to time, but it wasn't anything out of the ordinary and it was nothing Hawke couldn't handle. However it was dawning upon her that she sorely missed the pirate's dirty jokes and sleazy dialogue.

Days passed and the group stumbled upon a problem– the path up ahead was blocked off. Hawke muttered but volunteered to find an alternate solution. To put it shortly the alternate solution turned out to be a hell of a lot worse than a blocked road. Bartrand had betrayed their trust and locked them in a tomb of sorts after being handed a strange relic. By the Maker's balls first a dragon and its spawn and now a psychotic little man locked them in the damned Primeval Thaig. Hawke blasted through the next set of creatures that attacked them out of pure rage and frustration. Varric stood behind the raging mage and made sure to note to never be on Hawke's bad list.

"What the hell were those things?" Anders kicked at the pile of rocks that had just collapsed after being hit by a couple of his spells.

"I've heard of them before but only from men with half their minds completely lost. They call them rock wraiths, Blondie, but sometimes they go by the Profane." Varric offered his two cents.

"Whatever they are they can die, and that's all I need to know." Carver shrugged his shoulders and went after his sister who had already charged ahead.

Varric had to hand it to Hawke. She certainly knew how to unleash her wrath upon her enemies. After the hunger demon had tried to bribe the furious mage into a deal, Hawke hardly responded in a pleasant manner. Instead she opted to send a lightning bolt straight for the creature's head and whirlwind the rest of the unfortunate, smaller wraiths. She was on fire, literally. She sent flame pillars this way and that way, barely missing her brother's nicely combed hair. He scolded her but then thought better of upsetting her further.

Up ahead an even greater enemy awaited and Anders was worried that the mage had worn herself out too early, but much to his surprise she seemed even more relentless than she had been if that was possible. He aided her by handing her lyrium vials ever so often and healed the other members that were dealing with the smaller wraiths. Now here was a woman he could truly admire! She practically glowed with magic as she hit the ancient rock wraith with every elemental force known to the Ferelden woman.

Hawke breathed heavily as the battle came to a climactic end and wished there were more things to electrify, freeze or burn. It wasn't that she felt cheated by Bartrand, but he could have at least swindled them after they were out of the Deep Roads. That damned man left them here to rot and she didn't intend to die such a pitiful death. She made many promises before coming on this expedition and she intended to pay them all– to her mother, to her brother and to Isabela.

"Take a look at this Hawke." Varric called over the mage.

Hawke dragged her feet but as she drew nearer her jaw slightly dropped. Gold stacked upon gold stacked upon precious jewels– they had found treasure! At least the expedition hadn't been for nothing; with even just a tiny fraction of the treasure she would easily by the richest woman in Kirkwall.

"Let's take what we can." Hawke nodded as her brother shoved gold down his pockets.

"That's mine! Leave it and I'll give you the key." A booming voice interrupted their glorious pillaging.

Hawke gave the creature a tired expression, raised her hand, dropped it back down and looked at Varric, "would you mind?"

Varric grinned, "not one bit, Hawke." He raised Bianca and shot the creature clean through it's vulnerable spot. "Let's go." He grabbed the key off the wraith and handed it to Hawke.

Hawke agreed and began to stuff her own bag with goods. As she rummaged through the pile she felt a sharp prick on her fingertip.

"Ow!" She lifted the finger to her lips and sucked on the wound..

"Are you alright?" Anders quickly reached out for her hands but she warded his gesture.

"I'm fine." She cast a healing spell and soothed the pain as well as patched up the tiny cut. "What was that?"

She dug cautiously into the pile that had given her the slight prick and carefully pulled out a pair of beautifully gilded twin blades. They were crafted with such finesse that it was no wonder the blade hadn't poked right through Hawke's finger. Not only was it beautiful, Hawke noticed certain runes carved into the hilt– it had enchantment work done on it.

"These will make a pretty gift for her." Hawke commented aloud and caused the former Gray Warden to frown in dismay.

"You mean for your pirate whore?" Carver asked nonchalantly as he inspected what seemed to be a well-endowed, golden beer mug.

Hawke smirked as she picked up two golden balls off the floor.

"Here brother these are for you. I'm glad we were able to find a matching pair for you as well."

Carver scoffed at the balls his sister handed to him but kept them anyways; they were gold after all.

Varric snickered, as did Anders and the grouped moved on through the newly opened passageway. It was easier traveling through these tunnels than it was through the wraith's territory. They had encountered a few darkspawn, but nothing that the mage and her companions couldn't handle. However that didn't entirely mean it was all meadows and butterflies; in fact there were nights when Hawke refused to even blink. The sounds that echoed through the large underground tunnels were monstrous and unsettling. Even Varric, who always seemed at ease and full of merriment, stopped whistling when the creatures were at their loudest.

Varric had guessed it would take two weeks to reach the surface and the manly rogue wasn't too far off. Hawke wanted to run through the passage, reach the surface and soak in the sun she knew was above them, but too much noise would attract attention and that was the last thing she wanted in the Deep Roads. The other night had been a nightmare, and just thinking about it caused a shudder to crawl up Hawke's spine. After two sleepless nights Hawke needed to rest, and Anders assured her that he would keep watch. She didn't trust his ability to keep awake but her eyes refused to stay open and thus all her objections were cast aside. It felt like a mere second had passed by since she first closed her eyes to rest, so upon finding a darkspawn's fleshy face mere inches from hers, the mage reacted violently. She thrust fire down its throat and very well as damned it to the Golden City and beyond. It had been a small group that ambushed them, but none of the apostate's companions were at their prime. They struggled to keep the rotting creatures away, and even after they managed to defeat the last of them, none could sleep that night.

They were 10 days into their journey when Hawke noticed Carver's lack of crude and hurtful statements.

"Carver?" Hawke caught her brother as he stumbled forward. "Carver!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He tried to speak with force, but his voice grew weak.

"What's the matter?" Hawke searched for any wounds.

"He's been affected by the taint." Anders spoke up as he helped Hawke set Carver down.

"Bloody darkspawn," Carver spat before he passed out.

"No, I promised mother that you wouldn't die down here. There must be something we can do!" She looked towards Anders with pleading eyes.

"There is one thing. I sensed a group of Grey Wardens nearby. I can lead us to them and they can…" He looked down at Carver. "He can go through a ritual to become a Grey Warden; that is the only way to save him now."

Hawke held her brother and felt his breathing become shallow and haggard. "If it must be done." She picked her brother up with the help of Anders and set off towards where the other Grey Wardens were to be found.

Anders handled the negotiations and Hawke was forced to give them her brother. She cursed at her lack of control, but gave her baby brother a kiss on the forehead. She wanted to cry, to apologize for letting Carver down, but she couldn't. She handed the foreign Grey Warden the golden balls that had been in Carver's satchel.

"Make sure you give him these when he wakes up, he'll want them." Hawke charged him with this last request to which he simply nodded.

After that, neither the rogue nor the mage could carry a conversation with Hawke. She only answered the simplest of questions that pertained to getting to the surface, and refused any other sort of friendly banter. Thankfully the ragged trio made it to the surface in two more days, and Hawke would be able to fully enjoy her riches. As the sun splashed on her face, she winced and shielded her eyes. In the darkness she had been able to hide her tears but in the light there was nothing to shade her sadness and regret. Varric looked at the woman beside him and knew that the Hawke that had entered the Deep Roads had died somewhere along those long forgotten passageways and a new Hawke had been born. Only time would tell what the darkness had birthed.


	5. Chapter 5: All That's Left

A/N: So I'm not sure what I want to do with Hawke, but I can't have her all cheery and uppity after that horrible expedition experience, so she'll be a mess of sorts.

Disclaimer: Credit to Bioware for such captivating characters and the dramatic plot of Dragon Age II

Chapter 5: All That's Left

Upon returning to Kirkwall, Hawke did not immediately set foot in her Uncle Gamlen's hovel and reassure her mother of her failure as an elder sister. She drew up her hood and stumbled into the tavern, a gesture that caused no one to look at her twice– she was just another drunken patron to them. Varric hadn't returned to his lodgings yet and Anders had slithered on down back to Darktown without alerting anyone of his presence. Her dwarf companion had advised them to lie low for a while; to let him collect as much information on Bartrand as possible. No doubt his conniving bastard of a brother had told everyone that they had perished to a horde of random darkspawn combatants. At least coming back from the dead had some benefits including the element of surprise. Hawke sat on one of the shabby barstools and nestled her head in her hands– all she wanted was to rest, to lie next to a warm, bright fire and rest. Her body ached, her head was pounding and she felt empty.

"Get the fuck off of me!" A drunken voice shouted from across the room, and Hawke's eyes sparked lightly at the familiarity of it. She didn't turn to look, but she focused on the voice. "Try that again and I'll slice your balls off; I'll be doing this world a favor. There's already enough ugly to go around without you spreading it." She heard a chair being thrown to the floor. "The whole lot of you are disgusting. You know who was beautiful, Hawke. Hawke was beautiful, and I was going to ravish her body and now she's…" the voice cracked but more things were thrown upon the floor. "She's…" now there were shouts and grunts often associated with bar brawls.

Hawke turned to see Isabela in a fistfight with five men more than twice her size, but she didn't seem to be the one at a disadvantage. In fact, she fought better drunk and angry. The mage watched her dance around the giants and couldn't help but follow her like a moth to a flame. She was a dancing flame and she kindled something the mage had forgotten. Hawke slowly got up from her stool and walked towards the flying rogue.

"You want some of this too, do you?" Isabela raised her fist to the scrawny, hooded figure that just bumped into her. "That's fine, tonight I'm not feeling picky." Her fist was inches away when Hawke looked into the pirate's chocolate eyes. "Hawke?" Her voice cracked and her fist fell.

"Bella, I…" Hawke raised her hand but the mage never did follow through with her actions before she collapsed from fatigue in the pirate's arms.

"Balls." Isabela smiled and choked down tears as she pulled the mage in for a sloppy embrace.

She immediately stopped her sentimental crap and carried the mage to her quarters. Her scrumptious apostate had survived after all and that no good, lecherous dwarf had been lying all the while. It wasn't that she was all that attached to Hawke, but she hadn't even had sex with her yet and that was blasphemy to the sexual connoisseur that Isabela was. She had only been angry that such a treat hadn't been properly tasted; that's why she was rampaging in the Hanged Man ever since the news broke. That's why it hurt so much; it had to be. Isabela lay the woman down on her sheets and sighed… Hawke had failed to live up to her promise. She was now back in her bed but not of her own free will, and there would definitely be no sex tonight.

Isabela paused as she observed the features of the slightly younger woman and noticed how worn out and ragged she was.

"Andraste's tits she looks…"

"Half-dead."

Isabela jumped at the intrusion and put one hand on the hilt of her dagger before realizing it was Varric who had barged in.

"Well if it isn't my favorite hairy-chested manly man." Isabela smirked but also noticed his deathly look.

"Thanks for the compliments Rivaini." Varric turned his attention back to Hawke. "Keep the light on for her, will you?"

"Wait, you can't just leave!" Isabela rose to stop him but his worn gaze bade her to leave him be.

"I'll explain whatever Hawke doesn't tell you tomorrow. I need to sleep…" He rubbed his eyes, "or try to anyways."

"What the hell happened to all of you?" Isabela returned to Hawke's bedside only to find the sleeping mage squirming with discomfort. "Hey sweet thing calm down…" She put her hand on the mage's forehead and bade her to relax. "There's nothing here that can hurt you, well except for me." Isabela tried to wear a dashing smile but it fell into a frown once the mage refused to stop fighting her nightmares. "Hold still!" Isabela grabbed the mage's wrists but that only worsened the situation. "You really leave me no choice, Hawke!" Isabela muttered as she pressed her entire body against Hawke's, practically straddling the apostate.

"Mmm…" Hawke murmured and began to settle down as Isabela pressed against her. The mage pulled the pirate in closer and clung on to whatever she was able to grab.

"Just so you are aware…" Isabela whispered into Hawke's ear. "I do not do _this_ ever." She sighed and lay by the mage who was nestled in her bosom. "You will pay me back twice for this."

Isabela slept well enough or as well as anyone with a mage's face stuffed down their breasts possibly could. Isabela chuckled and wondered how Hawke would react upon waking up to such a glorious view. She watched as the girl's eyes slowly opened and laughed as she felt the mage's lips move against her flesh. Whatever she had said was muffled by the pirate's more than plentiful cleavage.

"Good morning sunshine, I hope you enjoyed using my breasts as your personal pillow." Isabela was so used to teasing the mage and having her spaz out that the mage's reaction caught her off guard.

"Isabela, you're so warm." The mage replied in half a daze and nuzzled into the crevice of Isabela's neck.

"Whoa, Whoa, what are you doing?" Isabela removed the mage from her and held her at arm's length. "I'm not one to be cuddled with, unless this will somehow lead to sex, will it?" Her gaze remained stern even as the mage looked at her with pleading eyes.

"I…" Hawke looked down at her hands, "I can't."

"Then we're done here." Isabela rose from her bed and walked towards the door.

"Wait!" Hawke outstretched her hand and nearly fell off the bed as she lunged forward. "Don't leave!" She was begging and Isabela hated it.

She hated seeing Hawke so disheveled, so pathetic. Where had her semi-cocky, fun-loving, yummy apostate mage gone? This person nearly crawling on the floor was a shadow of what the real Hawke had been, and Isabela wasn't sure she could deal with this change. What Hawke needed wasn't something that Isabela could offer. All she was good at was sex and stealing, none of which could help Hawke at the moment.

"Look Hawke, I'm not cut out for this type of thing. I'm glad you're back, really I am, but…" she looked away from the forlorn mage, "I hate clingy women."

Hawke felt her throat dry up and suddenly the darkness that had been bred inside of her jumped forward.

"Who says I was asking for that?" The mage's naturally blue eyes froze, as she stood tall and sneered.

The pirate stood still unaccustomed to being on the other end of Hawke's anger. Actually she had never seen Hawke look at anyone this way. It was a dark, fear-inducing glare that the mage was directing at her, and she didn't know how to respond. In all honesty Isabela had never thought the mage capable of anything so… evil.

Hawke stormed out of the Hanged Man not even bothering to notice Varric calling her over. The dwarf turned to see a rather frozen Isabela at her doorway and called her over instead.

"Rivaini what happened?"

"You know I'm not quite sure, Hawke just…" Isabela flashed back to the Maker-awful face that Hawke had given her. "learned her lesson is all."

"Something happened to all of us down there. Hawke had it the worst." Varric motioned for the pirate temptress to join him in his office. "I was hoping once she saw you–"

"Me?" Isabela looked at him incredulously. "What in Andraste's ass did you expect me to do?"

"She thought about you a lot Rivaini. None of us really knew if we'd make it back from that Maker forsaken road."

"It's not my fault she invested so many stupid things in me. I told her…" Isabela faltered in her speech as she realized that she had never taken the time to really set Hawke straight about who she was. "It's too late now."

"She's still strong; anyone lesser would have snapped, but she led us out of that darkness and let us keep our sanity. It all came at a cost however."

"Why are you telling me this, Varric? There's nothing I can do." She slammed her fist on his table. "You know me; there's nothing I can do. I can't be what she wants me to be."

"Can't or won't?" Varric eyed his friend with a stern gaze.

"Oh bug off, I'm done with this." Isabela rose and stormed out of the Hanged Man.

Varric sighed and pressed his fingertips together– Isabela was the only flame that would be able to bring Hawke back.

Hawke felt a fire raging within and wanted to damn the whole town of Kirkwall with it, but that wasn't a viable option. If she went off on a bloody rampage, the entire expedition would have been for nothing. She had enough wealth to keep the Templars at bay and to give her mother the estate she swore was rightfully theirs. Her mother would grieve for Carver, and though she wouldn't be so cruel as to directly blame the eldest Hawke, she would subconsciously always hold her responsible. She had no idea if Carver had even survived the Joining, and Anders did little to comfort her when he said it was all up to chance. After all the she had lost, when she came back up into the light she thought the nightmare was over, that there was nothing else she could lose. Isabela went and proved her wrong. That damned pirate… Hawke refused to think about her any further.

She walked up the shabby stone steps to Gamlen's and stood at the door. Should she knock or should she walk right in? It had been months since she was here last and her surroundings felt slightly surreal. If she took a step further there would be no turning back. She would have to face her mother's sorrow at losing yet another child and live up to her failure. Hawke stood still, unwilling to progress with her story. Fortunately or unfortunately fate intervened and Hawke was face to face with her mother as she opened the door to leave.

"Maker! Marian!" Leandra threw her arms around her child and began to cry immediately.

Hawke held her tightly and relished the human contact, but it was only a matter of time before her mother would realize her fears.

"My sweet girl you've returned! They told me you were dead…" she clung to her child, afraid that it was some cruel magic trick come to haunt her.

"I'm very much alive Mother." Hawke reassured her but felt her pull away.

She was smiling up at Hawke when she asked, "Where's your brother? Oh don't tell me he went to celebrate at the Hanged Man before coming home." She laughed full-heartedly and this pierced painfully at Hawke's heart.

"Mother, I…" Hawke fell to her knees and clung to her mother's legs. "I'm so sorry!" She cried as she had done when she was a child.

Leandra felt her heart skip a beat as she registered her eldest daughter's words in her head. She kept her sobs to a minimal as she lowered herself and rocked her daughter in her arms.

"What's with all this sobbing? Damned women." Gamlen poked his head out of the door. "Leandra weren't you on your way out to go look for work; what are you doing crying on my porch?"

Hawke heard Gamlen's words ring loud and clear and once again the darkness within her spread from her core to her hands. She shot electricity towards him and caused the man to jerk backwards and fall on the floor in a stupor. Leandra raised her hand and let it fall on Marian's cheek.

"What do you think you're doing?" Her mother scolded her as her mothering gaze met with Hawke's detached and cold features.

"You were going to make Mother work?" Hawke spat as she ignored her mother's slap and looked down at her shriveled uncle. "You're the very reason why the estate was gone, why we had no where to turn to, no protection. If it weren't for you squandering everything, we may have never needed to go on that damned expedition!" Hawke bellowed as her fingers cackled with raw electricity.

"Stop this at once, Marian Hawke!" Her mother commanded and Marian bit her tongue, biding the magic to stop. "Just stop, I can't take this." Leandra slumped to the floor and began to cry.

Hawke snapped out of her anger and knelt by her mother. "Mother?" She reached out to touch her but noticed how she flinched at the action. "I'm sorry." She drew her hand back and stood up. "I've procured more than enough riches to make a serious petition for our title to the Amell estate, and… Carver is in the hands of the Grey Wardens; it's unclear whether he's alive or not. I'll be back soon." She spoke in a monotone voice as she exited the dirt hole.

That was not the way she had pictured her return. She had known that her mother would take the news about Carver badly, but this turned out a lot worse than originally thought. First she blew up on Isabela and now her Uncle Gamlen had received a more potent dose of pent of darkness. Evil stares, untamed magic, what had the once friendly apostate mage become? She walked through the alleys of Kirkwall, watched as the sunset and night enveloped the landscape– this seemed familiar, comfortable to some degree. Now nobody would be able to see her pain or anger; only in darkness could she be herself without worrying how others would take it. She kept on walking until she found herself at the docks and the swooshing of water beckoned her to sit.

"Why?" She looked down at her hands. They were scarred and rough to the touch. "How did I fail?" She summoned a ball of fire and tossed it back and forth between her hands.

"Is that really wise?" A sultry voice caused her to drop the ball into the ocean's waters. "Thought so." A smirking Isabela plopped down beside her and tossed a clothed object in her direction. "You failed because you weren't eating right, so eat up." She pulled a flagon of wine out and began to chug at it.

Hawke reached for the flagon but Isabela put it further out of her reach. "Not until you eat a little, sweet thing."

"I'm not sweet…" Hawke muttered, but couldn't help the heat rising to her cheeks. "And I'm not hungry." At that moment her stomach gurgled in protest.

"Someone's still very bad at lying." Isabela took the bread from her companion. "Here." She broke off a small piece and pressed it forcefully through Hawke's lips.

Hawke turned away quickly and spit the bread out, not wanting to give in to Isabela's gestures.

"Would you just leave me alone?" It was more of a command than a request.

"Playing hard to get I see." Isabela then placed a piece of bread between her own lips and roughly grabbed the mage's face. Swift as only a rogue can be, the pirate planted her lips on Hawke's and pushed the bread through with her tongue.

"Stof…" the mage said through a mouth full of bread, "stopf it!" She finally managed to push Isabela away. "Stop!" her voice was laced with tears.

"Shhh, shhh…" Isabela shushed her as she pulled the mage in for another kiss this time without any bread to get in the way. "Let me do what I do best." She whispered on Hawke's lips.

Hawke tasted Isabela's warm breath and found that she rather liked the pirate's lips on her own. Without any other form of consent, Isabela pushed Hawke's back against the deck and mounted her while kissing her. For being so passive and shy before she left, this Hawke was anything but. That being said it wasn't long before Hawke managed to outmaneuver Isabela and reverse their positions. Isabela was pleasantly surprised as her ravenous mage began to ravish her body, and discovered that her magic was put to fine use on and off the field of battle. If anything this sexual act was one of dominance rather than finesse, and Isabela wasn't sure who the victor had been. While Hawke had her magic and stamina, Isabela had her flexibility and dexterity. The waves crashed nearby as both reached their ultimate point of pleasure. Isabela fell on top of her newly made sex partner and wondered when they could do this again completely naked seeing as this time their clothes remained somewhat intact.

"I'm sorry." Hawke whispered to the pirate that had just rolled off of her. "About earlier today, I didn't mean to–"

"Yes you did and it's understandable." Isabela replied before Hawke could fully apologize. "At least we got some great angry sex out of it." Isabela winked at the mage. "But now you must eat."

Hawke looked at the bread Isabela offered her and unconsciously gave Isabela a boyish smile. The pirate felt that reminiscent fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach again and mentally cursed at herself. Hawke took the bread and did nothing short of devouring it.

"Now give me that." Hawke pointed at the flagon in Isabela's hands.

"Someone forgot their manners." Isabela teased, "What do you say to beautiful pirates such as myself?"

"Please, give me that." Hawke responded with a smirk.

"We'll have to incorporate that for the next time we have sex." Isabela handed over the flagon and watched as the mage chugged the entire contents of the flagon.

"Is that all you think about?"

"Yes my dear it is." Isabela retorted as she took the flagon back from Hawke. "Nothing else is worth the time to think about."

"I see." Hawke looked out to the ocean and let her dreams drown in the waters; all that remained was her hollow body. "That's all there's left of me anyways." Hawke spoke softly, unsure if Isabela could hear her or not.


	6. Chapter 6: Duel (Part I)

A/N: Well I'm typically writing more than I usually do per day. It's fairly easy to write this actually. Enjoy the read and thanks for the reviews! Expect brush ups to occur to this chapter and the last very soon.

Chapter Six: Duel (Part I)

"Marian! Come down here, I have something for you." Leandra called out for her daughter to join her in the foyer of the newly titled Hawke estate.

Leandra beamed as she soaked in the well-known surroundings and couldn't believe she was living once more in her old family estate. It was by no means as large as some of the other noble's estates in Hightown but it was charming in and of itself. Her entire childhood had been spent in the garden and streets of Hightown. She watched as her daughter descended from the stairs and smiled as she approached.

"I put in an order with Ducille last week and the items have just arrived. Would you like to know what I had made for you?"

Hawke offered a small smile and a quizzical brow, which was enough encouragment for her mother to proceed with the show and tell.

"First off, I've noticed you don't have any sleep wear, or any comfortable clothes to just walk around while at home, so this beautiful robe is just for that." She handed the silk garment to Hawke.

Hawke caressed the fine material with her slender fingers and was amazed at the simplicity of it. Lately she had been surrounded by all manner of gaudy and bedazzled clothing. Whoever this Ducille was, she enjoyed their style.

"It even has the emblem on the back." Leandra pointed out excitedly.

"Thank you mother, it suits me well." Hawke spoke kindly.

"And these," Leandra pulled out a crimson red tunic and tight leather pants. "Are for your rambunctious lifestyle. Fenris helped with the pants. Lately you've been running around in these rags." Leandra poked at Hawke's ragged clothes.

"It's hard to find good clothes. Are these–"

"They're suited for battle. Sandal thankfully worked some enchantment on the tunic."

"Thank you." Hawke smiled sweetly as she pulled in her mother for an embrace.

As Hawke turned to return to her room and presumably change into her new clothes, Leandra took hold of her wrist.

"Dear… stop punishing yourself." She looked at her daughter's fatigued features; she must have been awake all night.

Hawke averted her gaze but gave a small nod to imply that she would try and returned to her room. Nighttime was the worst; it was when the shadows grew taller and the noises all around her kept her in a state of paranoia. Lately she had been shocking herself unconscious in order to get any sleep at all, but the side effects were dastardly the next morning. Her body was scarred from the constant zaps, but it was nothing some healing magic couldn't help with.

She laid the clothes out on her bed and decided to change into her new gear. Since her return from the Deep Roads her fame had sky rocketed and many of the nobles took notice of her bachelorette status. She thanked the Maker that her mother had no interest in pushing her to marry any time soon or ever for that matter. Hawke had met some of her potential suitors, which consisted of both female and male, and while many were very attractive, none interested her. Then there was Isabela… Hawke sighed at the thought of the pirate. They had been having casual sex ever since that night on the docks. The pirate had even visited her Hightown abode and caused quite a ruckus in front of her mother. To Hawke's surprise her mother didn't seem as angry as she did relieved and humored by Isabela's straddling of Marian on the upstairs deck, but she had asked them to relocate nonetheless. As long as Hawke craved the pirate's body, she wouldn't be able to give herself to another fully.

"Oooh what are these?" Speak of the Archdemon herself, Isabela stood right beside the unsurprised mage and observed Hawke's new clothes.

"They're not for you to run off in. The last dress I lent you… well it sags on me now." Hawke removed her pants.

"Are you calling me a fat cow?" Isabela smirked.

"Your breasts are probably more than twice as big as mine are." Hawke muttered as she threw off her current shirt.

"Are they now?" Isabela pressed up against the mage's back and cupped her breasts. "They don't seem all that small to me."

Hawke inhaled sharply, "compared to yours I believe anything is small."

"I believe I once told you that size isn't everything, and that it's how you use them that counts for something." Isabela began to fondle with Hawke's breasts but not for long seeing as the mage was determined to put on her new tunic and pants.

"Not tonight." Hawke bluntly stated as she turned to face Isabela. "I have something to do."

"Surely there's time for at least–" She pressed her lips roughly against Hawke's and tackled her to the bed.

"Isa…" Hawke felt Isabela push her tongue through. "Mmm…" Hawke pushed her to the side and straddled the pirate. "I said," she gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, "not tonight."

"You're no fun." Isabela pouted as she sat up. "What must you do that does not allow for a quick session between the sheets?"

Hawke looked back at Isabela and wondered if she should tell the pirate the truth. It had been two years since her return from the Deep Roads, and today was the yearly marker. Last year she couldn't bring herself to confront her fears, but she had been surrounded by her friends and family long enough to feel strong. Carver had survived the Joining and he was now a Grey Warden. He wasn't all too thrilled about the fact, but in the long run he would realize it was either death or… a slower death. Anders had informed her of the taint and what it eventually led all Grey Wardens to do. Either way he had survived the expedition to some degree.

Tonight Hawke was going to make a quick trip to the exit that her, Varric and Anders had crawled out of half-alive. She was going to bury the very fears that caused her to lash out and hurt the ones that cared for her most. Her temper had gotten so bad that Merrill, who loved flowers, stopped coming by to water her garden when she had exploded on her one day for something trivial. She had apologized to the elf but the poor thing was mortified and only blamed herself for Hawke's tantrum.

"I need to take care of something." Hawke finally replied.

Isabela raised an eyebrow but Hawke did nothing to elaborate.

"Alright then, I'll just head to the Blooming Rose." Isabela dusted off her clothes and headed towards the door.

Hawke watched her leave as she did every night. There was a time when Hawke would have confided in the buccaneer, but experience had taught her that would only push her farther away. She didn't want to be what Isabela considered a clingy woman, and something told her that the pirate was saving her from future woes. Isabela was as much like the sea as any human could be. Like waves she would come and leave, returning to her center whilst leaving everything behind. Their first night on the docks Hawke had let go of all romantic dreams that she had attached to Isabela, and vowed to look at her as a life-sized sex toy that happened to be her friend, but it was hard. There were nights when she wished the pirate would stay by her and Hawke would be able to bask in her warmth.

Isabela bit her lip as she walked away and hoped that Hawke would have a change of libido. She wanted the mage to ravish her as she did often a night whenever Isabela dropped in. The woman was very attentive and she had learned where and how to touch her in all the right places; a talent that few possessed due to the fact that she hardly ever slept with anyone more than twice. However the mage seemed set on doing whatever the hell she was so set on, and it piqued the rogue's curiosity. Isabela waited in a dark hiding spot and watched as Hawke took off towards the outskirts of Kirkwall towards the very place she knew Hawke to hate most– the entrance to the Deep Roads. It was easy enough to track the mage, but Isabela was beginning to feel stupid for following her rather than going to the Blooming Rose. The apostate could handle herself well enough even if she was alone in the wild; there was nothing that her anger and magic couldn't obliterate. Isabela muttered softly as she continued to tag along and scolded whatever innate feeling that was driving her to act out of character.

"Help!" A shriek erupted from nearby.

Hawke quickly turned to where the plea originated and changed her course.

'Good Maker Hawke, don't go playing the hero!' Isabela chased on after her afraid that Hawke would be outnumbered and not care.

"Shut yer mouth!" A haggard voice shouted, "It's yer damned fault. Always walking about in those skimpy rags." He chuckled and nudged another rather greasy man next to him. "Who wants ta go first?"

"I've been eyeing this one for some time." A skinnier but no less greasy man spoke, making the group three in total. "How'd you manage to get her?"

"Easy 'nuff, all I had to do was give her mum a couple of coins and she practically threw her at me." They all laughed.

Isabela waited in the shadows but her heart burned at the familiar story. Mother's selling their daughters for a meager amount of coin. It touched on Isabela's past far too closely for the pirate's comfort.

"Please, let me go… I'll pay back whatever she gave you." The girl spoke quickly, stuttering miserably as her legs trembled.

"Shaddup!" He smacked her hard across the face. "Where are the rest of the men?"

"Jenkins and Barr are on their way, but I say we should test the waters if you catch my drift." The skinny one threw the others a crooked smile and revealed all eight of his yellow teeth.

"Your sausage ain't big 'nuff anyways, go at it." The bigger man waved his hand with indifference.

The girl asked for mercy one more time and just as the skinny man was about to rip her blouse, a shard of ice pierced through his palm. He screeched as he lifted his hand and alerted the others to his distress. The girl with jet-black hair fainted at the sight of so much blood and fell to the floor. Hawke twirled her staff and summoned a tornado of raging fire. Isabela fell back on her haunches as she realized she would be hurling that thing in her direction if she aimed for the three pigs directly. Quickly she ran, as did the three men, and jumped out of the way as the tornado blasted through. Technically she had missed all of them, but Hawke had only meant to scare them. She cackled with laughter and chased after the men. They were running but not fast enough. With a click of her fingers all three of them began to levitate, and with another click the remained perfectly petrified. Hawke positioned them each next to one another and smiled at her handiwork.

"One little piggy, two little piggy, three!" She sung excitedly. "Do you know what happens if I send you pigs off to the city guard?"

They each eyed each other frantically and wondered what kind of freak had taken hold of them.

"I'll tell you what will happen. You'll serve a couple of months before the gallows gets too full of good mages and you're set free due to overcrowding." Hawke spat and glared at each of them. "You three who would have defiled a young girl and marred her for life would have been free to do it again and again and again!" She bellowed as she sparked with electricity. "That's why I'm not going to give you to the guards, oh no…" Hawke gave them her own crooked smile. "Instead I'm going to erase each one of you from Kirkwall… bit by bit." She encased each in ice at a pace slow enough that they would be able to feel the searing sensation spread through their body. She encased everything but their heads. "Now what would you like to lose first? Your arms?" She sent a force blow concentrated on their arms and frowned as they ripped off seamlessly. The men howled but not for long as she sent a flurry of fire and lightning to consume the rest of their bodies… she wasn't in the mood after all.

Her stomach rolled and lurched as she looked at the mess she had made, and it wasn't long before the bile climbed out of her throat and onto the dirt. Isabela lay flat on the ground as she witnessed Hawke clean up after herself. She had heard of Hawke's violent ways of dealing with criminals but had never seen it firsthand and damn was she a frightful woman to behold. Hawke waited until the bodies turned to ash and then foraged for any possible loot. Luckily enough she found at least two sovereigns worth on all three of them. Isabela sighed and thanked the Maker Hawke had enough sense to loot the bodies. With the loot in hand she returned to the girl who had fainted and held her in her arms. Hawke observed the girl's features and was surprised at the beauty she truly was. It was rare for a girl of low birth to be naturally endowed, or to retain her beauty in spite of so many hardships that came with being working class. The girl murmured as she came to and upon seeing Hawke she flinched and cowered, afraid that she had been taken hostage once more.

"I mean you no harm." Hawke spoke gently which caused a hiding pirate to scoff– Hawke was seriously bi-polar! "Those men will never touch you again."

"Thank you, serah…" the girl opened her eyes and searched the face of her rescuer.

"Hawke, just Hawke." She held the girl close, mesmerized by the younger girl's golden irises.

"You're Hawke?" The girl smiled as she acknowledged the name. "I've heard tales of you." She blushed shyly and cast her gaze down.

Hawke felt a flutter in her chest at the sight of such innocence. This was who she had been before… before the darkness had invaded her and taken her light.

"Have you? They must say horrible things about me."

"No, on the contrary, you're a hero. Well there are some scary parts, but…" The girl blushed once more, "I still like the tales."

Isabela watched as the girl drew nearer to Hawke's face and she found herself gripping her dueling blades.

"I'm glad then." Hawke smiled and remembered the loot. "Here, you should take this." She handed the girl her entire coin bag.

Isabela nearly jumped out of her hiding place to take back the coin bag and tell Hawke what an idiot she was being. Just because there was a pretty girl batting her ridiculously fine eyelashes at her did not mean Hawke should just go and give away all the money she had. Andraste's ass, Hawke could save her from being kidnapped anytime if that was what she was going to do.

"If you don't mind," the girl murmured and Hawke looked down at her. "In the tales, they say you kiss the maidens you save."

Hawke felt her jaw drop slightly and wondered if this was Varric's doing. No doubt he added in some sappy line that made all the girls woo.

"Of course I'm not asking for, well I just thought, maybe…" the girl fretted at the mage's silence.

Hawke smiled widely and pressed her lips against the girl's smooth forehead. Isabela held her breath and watched intently.

"I'm afraid I've only kissed one girl on the lips," Hawke replied and pulled away, "and that's the way I'd like to keep it. I'm sorry I wasn't able to live up to the tales."

The girl smiled and gently shook her head. "This was better than the tales." She wrapped her arms around the mage and nestled in the crevice of her neck.

"May I ask for your name?" Hawke held the girl close.

"I'm Arya. Arya Fallon." The girl murmured. "The tales also say you're in love."

"In love?" Hawke was baffled.

"With a pirate who is as untamed as the ocean but more beautiful than any royal gem."

Hawke mentally groaned and knew this had to be Varric's work, but perhaps the dwarf had a point. Isabela merely lay still as she listened to the girl's preposterous claims to Hawke's innermost desires. In love? Hawke? With her? Never. Hawke couldn't bring herself to affirm or deny the claim.

"It's true then isn't it? That's why you can't kiss me." The girl chuckled and removed herself from the mage's arms. "I respect your desires, but…" the girl smirked and Isabela felt that same sharp feeling poke at her heart, "if ever you should fall out of love, I will be willing to catch you."

Hawke remained baffled as the slender girl pulled her off the ground. Had that girl just pegged Hawke as being in love with Isabela, and had she just offered to be her lover if that didn't work out? The mage felt dizzy as the girl's golden eyes sparkled magnificently in the moon's light.

"Will you walk me home?"

"You're going home?" Hawke snapped out of her reverie. "But I thought–"

"Not to my mother," the girl sighed. "I'll take up room and board at the Hanged Man until I get my bearings."

Hawke gulped as she pictured Isabela meeting the beautiful muse that had somehow taken an interest in her. The pirate would take one of three courses, 1. She would not take notice of the girl (which was highly unlikely), 2. She would try and bed the girl (which was highly likely) or 3. She would want Hawke and Arya to join in a threesome. Isabela's ways were not unknown to Hawke, but for the most part she tried her best not to really think of other men and women having sex with her the pirate.

"The Hanged Man? Are you sure, the men there are quite a handful."

"I'll have you know that I'm not as defenseless as I look." She revealed a small dagger on her thigh and another by her waist. "It just so happens that I didn't expect my mother to put a sleeping agent in my tea. By the time I came to, I was already restrained and helpless."

"I'm sorry, about your mother I mean." Hawke scratched the back of her head.

The girl smiled and began the walk back to Kirkwall. Hawke walked by her side while a spying Isabela lurked closely behind.

"It's fine, she's more of a foster mother than anything. I've worked for her as a maid ever since the ship from Ferelden docked here."

"You're from Ferelden?"

"Born and bred." The girl smirked to her mage partner.

"Do you miss it?" Hawke was interested.

"Sometimes I do. I felt so free in the forests near Redcliffe. Before the castle was taken over by a demon, my life was well spent. I worked for the blacksmith."

"You worked for the blacksmith?"

Arya blushed knowing full well that she didn't look like she belonged in such settings.

"I didn't work on blades or anything." She quickly murmured out, "my specialty was bows."

Hawke's eyes brightened as she recalled her fascination with bows. Her memories came flooding in and suddenly Isabela was at the forefront of her mind. A small frown became apparent but she quickly covered it up with a small grin.

"Is that your preferred weapon?"

"It is but they are hard to come by. Well we're here, so…" Arya looked down at her feet before leaning forward and leaving a chaste kiss on the mage's cheek. "Thank you, for everything."

Hawke smiled and nodded before telling her to ask for Varric, and to mention that Hawke had sent her his way. Arya thanked her once more before slipping into the tavern and leaving Hawke feeling a slight ember of warmth. Isabela watched her as a smile lingered and there was even a slight blush on her cheeks. The smiles Hawke gave her nowadays were more naughty than they were innocent. Not that Isabela minded, of course; that was the way she preferred it. So Hawke was saving a little ass on the side for herself, big deal, Isabela didn't mind one bit. Hawke began to walk away and Isabela couldn't stop herself from acting out.

"Hawke!" She shouted and walked out from her hiding spot before the mage could see that she was in fact spying on her.

"Isabela?" She tried her best to not seem nervous. "I thought you were at the Blooming Rose."

"What?" Isabela almost forgot her cover, "No, I mean, yes I was but… I got bored. Yes that's it! I got bored." Isabela chuckled and hoped to get away with that atrocious lie; usually she was quite good at it. "Anyways I thought you had business to attend to." Time to turn the tables, Isabela thought.

"Ah well… I ran into a problem." Hawke half-lied. She hadn't run into just a problem; she had run into a walking vixen.

"And now where are you running to?" Isabela turned on her seduction and laced her arms around the mage's neck. "Anywhere fun?"

"Not really?" The mage turned away and her body tensed; she wasn't in the mood for games right now. "You should go to the Blooming Rose, Isabela." Her tone was tired which was not how it was ten seconds ago when she was talking to the Ferelden bitch she had dragged from the wilds.

"I'm not up for what they're serving." Isabela didn't give up.

"Would you like to join me for a walk then?" Hawke muttered out the suggestion because she knew the pirate was going to laugh at her proposal and say something sarcastic like 'walks are for mabaris' or just respond with a flat out 'no.'

"Sure." The pirate remarked but looked away from the mage's shocked expression. "Why not?"

"Alright then." Hawke relaxed even as Isabela's arms remained wrapped around her. "Follow me." She grabbed the pirate's hand and led her outside of Kirkwall.

Maker how Isabela wanted to kick herself in the face right about now. A walk? Why on Thedas would she want to go on a walk? There was no sex in walks! Well there could be, but there would be none on this walk and she knew it. Damn that Fereldan bitch and her affections for Hawke, and damn the hot, piercing feeling she felt whenever they were near each other. Isabela was not jealous; she was wary of her favorite sex toy being taken from her forever. She had a feeling that Hawke was an exclusive kind of gal, and never really paid that much attention to that characteristic since she was the one fucking her and all. However what if she did bed the Ferelden dog? Hawke would be off the market… and Isabela could no longer receive that rough sex that she cherished so much.

'Balls,' thought Isabela, 'I've just been challenged to a duel.'


	7. Chapter 7: Duel (Part II: Holes)

A/N: I've just noticed this entire time I was characterizing Isabela as having chocolate eyes when they are closer to honey than anything… Maker's breath I should be thrown to a pack of rabid mabaris! Anyways thanks for all the follows and favorites; I truly appreciate the readership!

Chapter 7: Duel (Part II: Holes)

"So…" Isabela looked ahead, "why are we heading a ways out of Kirkwall?" She chuckled and added, "Is there a party going on that I should know about?"

"I'm afraid there won't be one of those." Hawke sighed but knew how Isabela could be. "I… want to face my fear." She murmured the words into the brisk, night air. Isabela remained silent so Hawke continued as they neared the cave. "For so long I've tried to put this _thing_ behind me, and I've always failed."

They drew up to the cave and Hawke felt a pull from the dark abyss in front of her. Hawke felt powerless, as if the darkness was sapping her courage and strength, putting out the faint light that glimmered from within. Isabela stood by the mage and watched as Hawke stood still. Memories full of sound and vivid images pushed through Hawke's mental barriers and suddenly she felt a cold trickle on her head. Fear embraced her and she felt the need to step back. The pirate felt Hawke's resistance, and without thinking of the consequences to her actions, Isabela stood behind her and grasped her shoulders.

"It's just a hole, sweet thing." Isabela whispered into Hawke's ear. "If you really think about it, all holes are just variations of –"

"Isabela!" Hawke blushed as she pictured what Isabela was speaking of. "How could you say such a thing?" Hawke was laughing as she questioned Isabela's comment.

Isabela smiled and held the laughing mage by the shoulders as her body shook. It had been so long since she heard the mage laugh as joyously as she was doing now, and Isabela had made it happen. The pirate felt warmth spread throughout her as she gave herself credit for Hawke's merriness. Surely this would have to earn her some kind of sexual favor from the chuckling apostate.

"To think you were birthed twice!" Isabela carried on the joke, but this time Hawke came to a slowing halt in her laughter.

"Twice, you say?" Hawke pulled away from Isabela's hands and walked forward, closer to the entrance. "You're right. Out of the shadows and fear, I was born anew and all I've done is tried to bury them. I've let them chase me, hound me and frighten me." Hawke gripped her staff. "I'll face them from now on, embrace what I must and stare my fears 'til they cower before me."

Isabela watched as the mage pulsed with raw magic and stood in awe at the light she embodied. The mage turned back and offered her a wide smile– a smile she had last given the pirate before Hawke set off for the Deep Roads. Here was the Hawke she had been waiting for; the Hawke that she lov –….liked a whole lot, Isabela corrected her foolish mistake.

"Thank you, Isabela." Hawke took her hands and held them up to her lips.

"Don't thank me just yet Hawke, you owe me now." Isabela smirked.

"How can I repay you?" Hawke gave her an honest smile, and Isabela wished that she had a more seductive tone; it was better that way.

"How else would you pay a voluptuous pirate in the middle of nowhere, and now that you have no gold," Isabela laced her arms around the mage's neck once more, "you'll have to use your imagination."

Hawke remembered where all her gold had gone and whom she had given it to, and suddenly she felt nervous. She had turned Isabela down a countless number of times, but never had she done so on anyone's account. Hawke looked the other way even as Isabela's honey gaze demanded her attention.

"Perhaps we could just sit here and… look at the stars, or something." Hawke offered with another dazzling, boyish smile.

"Stars? But stars are so boring…" In truth Isabela loved looking at the stars but usually she was on the deck of her boat.

"I know, I just thought maybe…" Hawke grappled for the right words to say.

"Maybe what? Maybe Isabela could be your princess and do all kinds of silly romantic things all day." Isabela jested but it struck a sour note with the mage.

"That's not it," Hawke shouted back, "but maybe, for once, we could do something I wanted to do! For once it could be something more than just sex!" Hawke clenched her fist and looked straight at the pirate– she couldn't stand the pirate's indifference anymore.

"Anything more than sex is a waste of time, you fool." Isabela looked away from the mage's burning eyes. "Love isn't for me, and you'll –"

"Then I suppose I'm wasting my time, am I not?" Hawke's voice cracked as she brushed past the pirate whom she had come to love. She didn't want to hear anymore; she couldn't bear to hear another word of rejection come from the buccaneer.

Hawke stormed past her, literally. Whether the mage was aware of it or not, she was sparking with electric charges as she walked towards the town of Kirkwall. She caught her breath and slumped on a nearby wall. Even with all her wealth and respectability, she shouldn't be seen losing control of her magic. She had seen the steady rise of mage captives at the hands of the Templars. Hawke had thought the mages would be less bothered now that the Qunari had caused more trouble during their continuous occupation, but the Knight-Commander didn't seem to be diverting her attention at all. She felt the magic come to a steady pulse and wiped the few tears that had managed to make it past her cheek. Isabela would never be able to return the feelings the mage harbored for her, not as long as she remained completely against the notion of love. Hawke ached for her touch, but she wanted more than the rough sex that they both enjoyed countless nights since her return from the Deep Roads. She wanted the pirate's heart.

"Hawke?" A soothing voice pierced through her sorrow.

"Arya!" Hawke quickly composed herself and let out a small smile; she didn't want the young woman to see her like this. "You shouldn't be out so late."

"Are you my parent now?" The girl jested and shrugged. "You're not so much older than me Hawke."

"I may not be older, but I'm more well-equipped. I can't imagine you would get very far in that." Hawke eyed her skimpy dress. It honestly looked more like her outfit minus the pants.

The girl blushed but scoffed and remarked, "It's not like I don't have anything underneath." She looked away but raised the short dress to reveal a pair of very short shorts.

"Ah… I see." Hawke bit her tongue and looked away. "Are you taking a walk?"

Arya smiled and nodded before extending her hand out. "The Hanged Man was a little too rowdy. Would you like to accompany me?"

Hawke eyed the hand gently and thought back to the pirate she had left behind. Isabela would never extend her hand out to her, or offer her company unless it pertained to physical pleasures, yet they had been together for some time. Hawke knew if she began to court Arya, she would have to say no to Isabela's sex invitations. Hawke sighed but put on a small smile and grabbed the girl's hand– she couldn't wait forever.

"Sure, where would you like to–" Hawke would have asked if the girl hadn't began to pull and run off in a random direction.

"I know the perfect place!" She shouted with glee as she jumped over a couple of barrels and crates causing Hawke to almost trip.

Arya continued to climb fences and jump off of walls, until they reached one of the highest roofs in Kirkwall. Hawke was baffled at her acrobatic abilities and wondered once or twice if this girl was more than simply a Fereldan refugee. Hawke kept up thanks to her magic but Maker's breath did she have to improvise. She was sure that she had left a mess down below when she let that gale force push her up. Hopefully Aveline wouldn't catch wind of her late night escapade.

"Here we are." Arya turned to look at the mage. "Well what do you think?"

Hawke looked up and caught sight of the shining stars. The entire sky was coated with tiny sparks that twinkled every now and then. Hawke smiled and sat on the roof before she addressed her partner.

"How often do you come here?"

"As often as I can. It's hard to get away from the squalor and filth that fills all of Kirkwall, but up here it's not that bad."

Hawke felt the girl's hand still clasped with hers and felt a pang of guilt shoot through her. No, she shouldn't feel guilty; Isabela didn't want this part of her anyways.

"Arya who are you?"

"What do you mean?" The beautiful muse turned her head away from the prying mage.

"As far as I know, normal girls can't fly through the air, jump off of walls and scale roofs this high." Hawke smirked as she cupped the girl's chin with her hand.

"They can't?" Arya smiled and pleaded with her eyes for Hawke to drop the subject. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Hawke drew closer to the girl.

"I may have had a rather strange upbringing I suppose. My family wasn't exactly what you'd call normal."

Hawke noticed the uneasiness with which the girl spoke, but Hawke needed to know whom she was willing to pursue instead of Isabela.

"Try me; I know quite a bit of strange people with strange families. In fact there's this one girl that had a former noblewoman for a mother, an apostate mage as her father and a Grey Warden as her brother."

Arya chuckled at Hawke's reference to herself and replied, "I… my mother was a Templar."

"A Templar? That's not so strange. Though I admit I can't see one of those people being the most amiable suitors."

"Well she was sort of a Templar."

"What do you mean sort of?"

"I wasn't really sure… I was young but she seemed to be affiliated with Templars, though the insignia she wore was different."

"You mean it wasn't a burning sword?"

"No it was a burning eye."

"I'm not sure I follow–"

Arya sighed and looked down at her feet.

"I never knew what it meant either. She was always gone. My father raised me for the most part. He was a mage." Arya looked up again and bit her lip; surely Hawke would think she was a liar.

"Alright so your mother was something like a Templar and your father was an apostate mage. Do I have that right?" Hawke cocked her eyebrow.

"Yes," Arya scanned the other's face for signs of disbelief but there were none. "You believe me?"

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" Hawke smirked. "It does sound like something Varric would concoct, but you have no reason to lie to me."

Arya felt a shiver run down her spine as the mage's blue eyes rested on her. Hawke felt the tremor and held the girl closer to her than before. Now with their lips practically touching, Hawke began to feel the heat rising between them. She pushed herself and felt the girl tense as the mage's lips enveloped her own. Hawke wasn't quite sure how to kiss the girl since she was so used to Isabela practically feasting on her lips and mouth. She was almost positive that the girl had little to no experience when it came to physical contact of the affectionate kind. With that in mind she decided to do her best at being gentle and as cautious as she possibly could. It was a brief kiss but it left the mage feeling a flutter of joy on the inside.

"But what about your pirate queen?" Arya murmured after the kiss.

"She's a pirate queen, and that's the problem." Hawke murmured as she looked out to the docks. If Isabela could have her way she would already be half ways across the world on a nicely rigged ship. "I can't be what she wants me to be."

"Or is it that she can't be what you want her to be?" Arya asked sincerely as she rested her head on the mage's shoulders.

"Perhaps." Hawke exhaled and looked down at the girl resting on her. "I'm not quite over her yet, but… I'm willing to try." She was being honest; the pirate was still at the forefront of her mind.

"I understand." Arya smiled and replied, "I wouldn't believe your love so shallow that you could forget it in such a meager amount of time." The young woman blushed slightly as she spoke her next words. "I could help you forget faster if need be." The words came out barely above a whisper but they caused Hawke to grin.

"You're a sweet girl, Arya." Hawke rested on the girl's raven hair.

Off on another rooftop a pair of honey eyes watched the pair with a clenched fist. Isabela honestly couldn't explain why she had stalked the mage, but their last encounter wasn't exactly the happiest of moments. The rogue had simply wanted to have glorious sex with the mage, was that too much to ask for? Apparently so since the mage was off fraternizing with the Fereldan dog they had met earlier.

She was out of hearing range but her vision worked just fine, and when she spotted the kiss that Hawke gave the girl, Isabela felt her throat tighten. It meant nothing that Hawke was kissing someone else, but she had refused the pirate's sexual advances so why would she be taking pleasures from anyone else? The pirate detected no potential threat from the Fereldan girl; after all, the pirate was twice as voluptuous and ten times a better kisser than what she just witnessed. Isabela decided she would draw in closer just to see if she could retrieve any news that would prove what Hawke saw in the meager girl.

"Surely any hole of the heart can be filled." Arya spoke as she looked into Hawke's icy eyes.

"Hole?" Hawke flashed back to what Isabela had previously said about holes and involuntarily blushed.

Isabela knew what Hawke was thinking of and bit her tongue to keep her from snorting with laughter. Perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would. Even as Hawke sat with the gorgeous Fereldan, she couldn't shake off Isabela's voice and image.

"Did I say something wrong?" Arya was confused at Hawke's sudden bashfulness.

"Oh no of course not." Hawke shook her head and took her head out of Isabela's frame of mind. "I was merely contemplating this hole I may have." The mage gave herself a mental smack on the head as she realized how stupid of a reply that must have been.

Arya felt a presence behind them but when she whisked her head to look no one was to be seen. Hawke followed Arya's gaze and half wished to see Isabela, but upon seeing nothing was half relieved to find nothing. Both shrugged and laughed at their seeming paranoia before they settled into a comfortable silence and continued to stargaze. A pair of hands clutched furiously to the edge of a building, as their owner silently cursed at Kirkwall's flat-roofed architecture. The rogue craftily scaled down the wall and then brushed off the dirt that layered the walls from her blouse. This business of watching Hawke was becoming a dirty habit in more ways than one, and the pirate was in the mood for the Hanged Man's "rat-piss" ale.

As the pirate checked in at her usual stool, a hairy-chested dwarf took the seat beside her. Isabela pulled the mug to her lips and downed the whole of its contents before looking at her long time friend. He grinned at her and paid Corff to send them another round; he had just met the Hanged Man's newest resident a couple of hours ago.

"So I hear your reign's in jeopardy." Varric swished his ale around before downing it. "I've also had time to inspect her and I must say she's a lot like someone I used to know."

"And who would that be?" Isabela downed the next mug and called for another.

"She's a lot like Hawke before than blighted expedition." Varric watched as Isabela devoured yet another mug of ale and frowned. "I thought this is what you wanted Rivaini."

"I said I wanted Hawke to be fun again; there's no fun involved with a taken Hawke." The pirate slammed the cup down, more out of lack of coordination rather than anger.

"I recall you not wanting to deal with all her 'emotional' issues. You could have sex with anyone else. How about Anders, he's a mage; I bet he could do all the tricks Hawke could." Varric snickered at Isabela's disgusted face.

"Anders is the epitome of out of control emotions, and he _can't_ do what Hawke could."

"I suppose Blondie does have his drawbacks," Varric drank a little and watched as Isabela stared into the depths of her shallow mug. "It's not too late Rivaini, but… Hawke's not in it for fun, not anymore." Varric slid off his stool and left the pirate to her ponderings.

"Damned dwarf and his damned advice." Isabela muttered and continued to drink away her thoughts until they muddled into a swirl of black nothing.

Hawke entered the Hanged Man at the odd hours of twilight with some caution but her shoulders relaxed as she realized Isabela was nowhere to be found. Arya knew who she was looking for; Varric had informed her of Isabela's lodging which caused her mild discomfort. She had heard of the pirate's unsurpassed beauty and the aura of desire that she emitted with the mere sashay of her hips. Arya continued to imagine what Isabela might look like from the stories, but was disrupted when they neared her room. Hawke froze as she heard a familiar moan echo off the walls– it was definitely Isabela. She was… but of course she was, thought Hawke. It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did, but she tried her best to hide it from Arya.

"Are you… alright?" Arya spoke in a whisper and blushed as another one of Isabela's moans resounded in the hallway.

"Of course," Hawke responded quickly. "I'm sorry you have to live in such a…" Another moan– Isabela wasn't trying to be modest in the least, "I should go, Goodnight." With a chaste kiss to the girl's forehead, Hawke left without waiting for Arya's reply.

Arya reached out for the mage, but Hawke was well out of her reach. These 'sounds' must be Isabela's and no doubt the short grunts were of her partner's; Arya blushed as images formulated in her head. The Fereldan resigned to her room but the walls might as well have been non-existent. She closed her eyes and tried to tune out the sounds of pleasure from the girl next door, but darkness only seemed to amplify them.

Then between the grunts and moans, Isabela clearly cried out "Oh, Hawke!"

Arya knew for a fact that Hawke was nowhere near, much less under or above the infamous pirate, but there was no mistaking it– Isabela had called out her name. Regardless of Hawke's claims of the pirate's indifference, Arya had a feeling that the pirate cared for Hawke more than she knew. However, her own feelings towards the mage directed her to keep this tiny bit of information to herself. Telling Hawke would only give her false hope and a constant pain. Arya had never been in love before, or even thought of chasing after such fanciful notions, but the thought of loving Hawke came naturally enough. If the pirate was aiming to lose, then Arya would be grateful to gain. There was little doubt that Arya would be able to fill in the holes left in the mage's trampled heart, but little did the Fereldan know that Isabela was quite skilled with all manners of holes herself.


	8. Chapter 8: Duel (Part III)

A/N: I actually wanted to end this chapter earlier, but I wanted to get out as much as I could before school work piled up again and thus settled for this mash up. Anyways thanks for all the encouraging reviews and advice! Read on!

Chapter 8: Duel (Part III: Playing with Toys)

With a loud thud and a groan, the man slid to the floor and relinquished the grip on the bag he had been holding so viciously on to. Hawke placed her staff on her back and picked up the brown cloth bag. This particular thief had been quite the runner and not to mention he had an utter disregard for his own life. Hawke weighed the bag in her hands, wondering if it had jewels or coins in it but the weight was relatively light. All Dulci had said when practically barging into Hawke's estate was that Hawke must retrieve stolen merchandise or she would be ruined. Hawke wasn't in any mood to do any work seeing as Arya had come over for dinner, but the Orlesian woman was absolutely distraught. She pointed them in the right direction and in no time her and Arya came upon a rather dirty looking thief.

He ran across rooftops, spiked-gates and through rather disgusting piles of human waste. It wasn't that Hawke hadn't encountered rather odious smells but that didn't mean she spent her free time swimming through it. When they finally caught him, Hawke was cautious about not getting too close to him with all the gunk he was covered up in. If it weren't for Arya's rather detailed knowledge of Kirkwall's passageways, Hawke might have had to use rather extreme measures to catch the thief like causing an ice storm to break out in a contained section of Kirkwall– Knight Commander Meredith would have loved that.

"What's in the bag?" Arya poked at the item in question.

"I'm not sure, but might as well take a look," Hawke undid the lace and took a peek inside only to have her entire face burn red.

"Well what is it?" Arya was having a hard time seeing Hawke's face in the dark.

"I,I,It's nothing!" Hawke hurriedly laced it back up and kept the bag from Arya's grasp.

"That's not fair!" Arya smirked and closed in on the nervous mage. "I helped catch him too."

"Trust me when I say you're better off not knowing." Hawke put the bag behind her.

Arya kept closing the gap between her and Hawke until she was well within kissing range. The girl withdrew the bow that Hawke had crafted for her and used it to trap Hawke in betweeen her and the bow by wrapping it behind her. Hawke stood locked between Arya, her arms at her sides and the bow to her back. Arya pulled Hawke closer until she was able to ensnare the mage's lips, and once that was accomplished she quickly made fast of grabbing the bag in Hawke's limp hand.

"Hey!" Hawke reached out but the Fereldan was quicker.

"You're the one who didn't want to play fair." Arya kept the bag at a safe distance. "Now let's see what do we have–" the young woman's face paled as she looked into the bag. "here," she squeaked and dropped the bag to the floor.

"Serves you right." Hawke chuckled and picked up the bag. "Who knew the Orlesian woman was into this kind of thing."

"No wonder she was so worried."

"She even had her name engraved on most of them."

"I wasn't aware you took such a detailed account of them." Arya murmured and blushed at the thought of Hawke's developing a curiosity for such 'toys.'

"I didn't, I just, I had to make sure they were in fact Dulci's." Hawke felt flustered as she turned around to return to Hightown.

"I see…" Arya felt the awkwardness of the current subject set in as she tagged behind Hawke.

Hawke struggled to look at Arya with the images of Dulci's various sex toys located in the bag being held by her right hand. She had been courting the beautiful Fereldan bowman for at least 3 months, and had been delaying anything more than kisses and hugs. It wasn't that she didn't know what to do, but she simply couldn't bring herself to bed the Fereldan. In truth every time she thought of doing anything relatively sexual, her thoughts would stray to a rather voluptuous pirate that she had been avoiding as of late.

"Oh! Serah Hawke, you've returned!" Dulci cried out as she saw Hawke appear at the entrance. "Please say you captured that horrible man!" She whined and when Hawke raised the bag Dulci seemed to be in a panic.

"You didn't by chance see what was in there, did you?"

Hawke nearly choked on the air she was breathing as she eyed Dulci's enquiring stare. 'Of course I didn't look' is what she was ready to say, but images of leather, cuffs and various strappings undid her eloquent tongue. Arya glanced at Hawke, wondering why she was taking such a long time to reply and, out of humor, nudged her partner back into reality.

"No, I didn't have the chance." Hawke hurriedly thrust the bag at the Orlesian woman. "Have a goodnight Comtess!" She led her towards the entrance and Dulci exited as quickly as she could.

Hawke shut the door and sighed as she slid to the floor. When was she going to have a normal late night experience? It seemed like no matter where she was, strange requests always managed to come her way. Strange requests, dealings with the Arishok and a lack of seeing Isabela seemed to be weighing the mage down. Arya sat down by her and let the mage rest on her available shoulder. They hadn't been able to have a normal sit down dinner, nor had she been able to meet Hawke's mother under normal circumstances. She felt Hawke nestle into her neck and chuckled as Hawke's warm breath tickled her delicate skin. The mage was tired from the chase, but the bow-woman could tell something else was wearing her out. She had an inkling that it had to do with the pirate she had been avoiding as of late. Ever since the night that Hawke had heard Isabela 'plying her trade,' the mage refused to enter the Hanged Man. However Arya had no choice in the matter since she had no other place to lodge, and had run into the pirate more than a few times.

After one late night excursion with Hawke, she had returned to boisterous singsong voices. When she entered she laughed at the scene. Isabela was being lifted by at least three men and they were singing some dreadful pirate song at the top of their beer-filled lungs. They went around the whole tavern until Norah decided it was getting a little out of hand with 'Captain Isabela' leading the rowdy men. Arya laughed and took a seat at the bar as Norah tried her best to get everyone to settle down. Meanwhile the Fereldan ordered a mug of ale and drank to her heart's content.

"Well don't you have pretty face?" A slurred yet luscious voice whispered in her ear.

Arya blushed and sat in slight shock as Isabela took a seat by her. Hawke had mentioned, once or twice, the very lovely features that Isabela was endowed with, and Arya was beginning to notice that words didn't do the pirate justice. She was well endowed to the point of making Arya doubt her own merit.

"Wait a second," Isabela stifled a burp as she rubbed her eyes, "You…" She pointed at Arya and caused the younger woman to tense up. "You… you are," Isabela smirked and leaned in dangerously close to the beautiful Fereldan. "I know you." She placed a finger on Arya's lips.

"I,I,Isabela is it?" Arya leaned back and away from the pirate's intoxicating allure and as well as her intoxicated breathe.

"Captain Isabela to you." Isabela wagged her finger and scolded the girl. "I'm just missing my ship is all," she muttered at the end. "Anyways, you… you seem very familiar." Isabela grabbed the girl's chin and turned her face left and right.

"Hey!" Arya gasped as the pirate pulled her directly to her bosom, which was ample enough to bury her. "Stop manhandling me!"

"Believe me sweet thing I don't handle men as nicely as I'm handling you." Isabela chuckled at the disheveled woman and smiled. "Still I feel like I should remember you."

Arya gulped and wondered what would become of her if the pirate did recognize who she was. Hawke hadn't been too clear on how she ended her 'relationship' with Isabela, but Arya was fairly certain that it wasn't pleasant business. She hadn't actually seen Isabela in a fight, but from what she could hear of the bar brawls she knew that a duel would put her at a clear disadvantage.

"I think perhaps I should leave." Arya slid off her bar stool and made her way towards her lodgings but not before Isabela could grab her wrist.

"Now even if I can't remember where you're from doesn't mean we can't have any fun!" Isabela sloppily dragged the girl into her room.

Arya could have easily evaded the pirate since she was hardly able to walk in a straight line but she was afraid leaving Isabela this drunk would surely be harmful.

"I don't want the type of fun you're hinting at." Arya politely responded as she took hold of Isabela's hands, which were currently busy trying to untie the back of the girl's tunic. "And I'm not the one you want to have fun with." She pushed Isabela back on to her bed and smiled when she saw the pirate had passed out at the exertion. "Maker's breathe, I hope you don't remember this in the morning."

Arya still wasn't sure if Isabella had indeed forgotten their interaction, but she had a feeling the pirate could recall even the darkest of memories during her drunken escapades. A few nights after that the Fereldan bowman had another encounter with the beautiful Rivaini. Hawke had dropped her off again and upon entering the tavern this time, a bulky, towering man approached her. Arya would have walked past him if that were in fact possible, but he was a walking wall with tree trunks for arms.

"My boys here don't believe I could bed such a lady as you, and we're going ta prove them wrong, aren't we?" His voice boomed and even his hiccups sounded like small explosions and his burps like rolling earthquakes.

Arya furrowed her brows and basically turned to walk the other way. It was rather a surprise when she felt two massive, boulder-sized hands grab both sides of her arms and lift her. She kicked violently at the man's face and planted her boot into his stony jaw. He groaned but didn't relinquish his vice grip on her torso.

"Let go of me!" She shouted and continued to squirm in vain.

"I always liked a little bit of fire in my women." He chuckled and made to walk out of the bar when a rather voluptuous heroine intervened.

"Now, now it's never polite to play with things that aren't yours." Arya turned to find Isabella blocking the doorway.

"You're welcome to join in the fun." The giant made a lunge for Isabella's wrist but stumbled forward as the pirate made a quick step back.

"I'm sorry big boy I'm not in the mood for stupid and ugly." Isabella unsheathed her daggers and made quick to pinpoint the giant's vulnerable spot. Now with the dagger inches from the man's groin, the giant stood still. "Put her down and I'll let you stay as much of a man as you'll ever be."

The giant looked back and was about to signal his man when a firm and hardened piece of metal slammed against his face, and the girl he had been carrying escaped from his grasp. He had been so intent on not moving to protect his only claim to manliness that his grasp had loosened on Arya. She quickly used that to her advantage and used her bow to smack his face inwards. As she tumbled to the side, Isabela grabbed her wrist and led her to the back of the tavern– a brawl was about to ensure.

"Stay here!" Isabela commanded as she pushed the girl up the stairs and returned to the other four men that had already unsheathed their rusty blades.

"By the Fade I will!" Arya retorted and watched as Isabella engaged the combatants with swift and sure movement. Then she saw a man slink behind her and she knew she couldn't refrain from the brawl any longer. As the man raised the blade to stab the pirate on the shoulder, Arya let an arrow fly and pierced the man's arm. "Gotcha!" The Fereldan smirked and disregarded all the shrieks and shouts that ensued. She joined the pirate and fought at her back, making sure that no one got close enough to threaten their immediate health.

"Alright that's enough!" Norah shouted and thumped a mug on the wooden table. "I've just about had it!" She roared and threw the mug at the combatants. One of them managed to catch it and checked to see if there were any droplets of ale left. "Do you know who has to clean all of this up?" Her eyes began to look a little crazy as they peered forward, "I DO!"

Isabela backed up with a sheepish grin and took hold of Arya's wrist, "we really should go now. Norah can handle the rest, really, let's go now."

Isabela rushed out to the back of the tavern once more and chuckled at the thought of Norah's wrath. She had once been caught in that woman's storm and wasn't sure which was worse: the Qunari horde trailing behind her or Norah with a damned broomstick.

"Well that was a bit of fun, wasn't it?" Isabela chuckled and let go of the other girl's wrist.

Arya remained silent and once or twice tried to formulate a response, but it felt strange.

"Thanks for helping me." She finally managed to speak.

"I wasn't helping you; I was saving that man's life." Isabela retorted with a grin. "I can only imagine what Hawke would have done, had you been taken against your will."

Arya felt her chest tighten at the mention of Hawke and wondered how much Isabela knew about them. She ran her fingers through her midnight tresses and looked up to find the pirate's golden eyes watching her.

"I can see why she likes you. You're very beautiful." Isabela drew closer to the bow woman until she was close enough to cup her chin. "You remind me of her, before she set off into the Deep Roads."

There was a longing in her voice; a yearning that Arya could feel in her touch. She missed Hawke that much was clear. Her golden eyes wavered for a second before they hardened.

"She misses you too, you know." Arya felt her voice tremble and her heart shriveled at the words. She didn't want Hawke to leave her and return to Isabella, but she couldn't stop the words from spilling out regardless.

"You're kind… or cruel, I'm not sure which one." Isabella murmured as she held the Fereldan in her arms. This is how it never was with Hawke because she couldn't let that happen. The stupid mage would get all kinds of fanciful ideas in her head and no doubt try to tie her down. "I should hate you for taking her away. Do you know how long it's been since I've had good sex?" Isabela smiled up at her but it was laced with sadness.

"You practically gave her away, and as for sex," Arya muttered as she looked at the wall beside her, "you seem to have that pretty often enough." She blushed.

"But it's not _good_ sex; it's just sex." Isabella replaced her sad smile with a mischievous grin. "I remember Hawke as a virgin, and you look like you'd be just as good." With her quick swift, rogue abilities she pushed Arya against the wall and planted a firm kiss on her lips.

To Arya's credit, she tried her best to fight off the pirate's tongue but Isabella was far more experienced in duels of all kinds. Once the kiss ended and Arya could finally breathe she pushed the pirate away.

"I thought you said it wasn't polite to play with something that's not yours."

Isabela stood back astounded at having her own words used against her. She had indeed said that exact phrase but she had only said it out of dramatic necessity, not actual ideology. The pirate threw up her hands and scoffed.

"Fine you win this round, but I may just break those rules one of these days." The pirate winked and went back to the bar.

That was the last she had seen of the pirate, and she didn't know if her last line was directed at her or at the mage that now leaned on her. Hawke watched as Arya's face contorted in several delightful ways, and much to the mage's amusement the bow woman had no idea she was being watched.

"What's on your mind?" Hawke sat up straight as she looked at her lovely partner.

Arya jumped a bit at the question but replied with a sheepish grin that it was nothing. She wasn't sure how much she should tell the mage and which parts would make her wish that she had never left Isabela.

"You're a bad liar."

"Would you rather I be a good one." Arya jested. "It's just… you seem sad."

Hawke's widened a bit at the accusation but couldn't deny that she felt a certain sadness creep up on her. The mage sighed and cradled her head in her hands. She had no reason to be sad. She had a beautiful, kind and witty girl that treated her lovingly and was patient as Andraste herself.

"I never told you how I ended it with Isabella, did I?" Hawke raised herself up off the floor and extended her hand to Arya.

Arya shook her head and followed the mage to whichever section of the house she wanted to go. By this time everyone had slinked off to bed and curled up in their warm blankets to dream about Mabari pups and such. Hawke ventured off into the left and entered a room with a fireplace already lit.

"We were going to have dinner here," Hawke muttered as she took a seat on the pillows thrown about on the floor, "and then we would have sat here and enjoyed each other's company."

"No reason to delay the latter." Arya settled next to Hawke and kissed her on the nape of her neck as she snuggled with the mage's body.

Hawke caught Arya's eyes and found their lilac color to be tinged with desire. Her body trembled lightly as she felt Arya push her back on the pillows and watched as the Fereldan hovered above her. The bow woman looked down at her lover and let her hair cascade down to caress the other's face.

"You miss her." The words came out barely above a whisper.

Hawke turned away from the girl's imploring lilac eyes. She didn't want to think about Isabella now, especially with Arya straddling her like she was. Why did she have to say that at this exact moment?

"I… I just didn't end things well with her."

"I'll tell you what was on my mind earlier if you tell me what happened."

Hawke bit her lip and mulled over whether or not this was a fair trade until she got a nip on her neck that told her Arya wasn't as patient as she thought.

"Deal." Hawke planted a kiss on Arya's forehead and sat up before she recounted the events that plagued her heart.

When Hawke first stepped into the tavern she already felt her heart pounding and wondered if Isabella would be able to tell. Much to the mage's relief and horror, the pirate was nowhere to be found. Hawke decided to take a seat at the bar, and with a flask in her fist quickly emptied the contents of a number of mugs. When the pirate finally made her appearance Hawke was well beyond her normal drinking range. Isabella laughed at the flushed Hawke but pulled her towards her room nonetheless. Hawke felt the room spin as she was pulled along to the back of the tavern and felt her stomach lurch in uncomfortable ways.

Before she could understand what was happening, Hawke was lying with her back against Isabela's bed. Hurriedly the mage scrambled with the sheets and pushed at what she assumed to be Isabela's body.

"No! This isn't what I want." Hawke slurred out as she sat up tangled in the sheets.

"You're being silly, why else would you come and get drunk at the tavern." Isabela forced the mage back down and held each of her wrists above her head. "You got bored with that dog girl you managed to pick up and came looking for fun with me."

"Dog girl?"

"The Fereldan, dog girl." Isabela began to leave a trail of kisses on Hawke's neck. "I don't mind of course, you can chase dog girls if you'd like. As long as I still get to have you."

Hawke fidgeted violently once more and roughly pushed the pirate away. Her vision was blurred and as she raised a hand to rub her eyes she realized she had been crying. It wasn't enough; Isabella's offer wasn't enough. It pained the mage to push the pirate away, but it had to be done.

"I want her, not you; she gets to have me, not you." Hawke spoke clearly and triumphantly as she rose from the bed. "You're…" Hawke blamed the next words that came out of her mouth on the alcohol, "a whore."

And with those words out, Isabella's eyes lit on fire. The word whore had been used to describe her plenty enough times and even she admitted to being a somewhat apt character to fit the noun, but having Hawke call her that was something else altogether. She was tempted to throw a dagger at the mage's smooth forehead, or at the very least carve her tongue out, but when she saw Hawke stumble back, trip over her own feet, and cry as she crashed to the floor, she paused. She hovered above the mage and bit her lip. Her anger turned to pity and then to disgust. This is what Hawke had been diminished to: a groveling drunk.

"I'm not sure what happened after that… I passed out, I think." Hawke concluded her story.

"You think?" Arya raised a brow.

"The next day I was back in my bed, tucked in and everything."

"She brought you home."

"No, it was probably Varric… or Merril, or Aveline… or–"

"She's not that bad, you know." Arya cut in and relayed her dealings with Isabela to the doubtful mage.

Meanwhile, at the Hanged Man Isabela was doing some recounting of her own. That last night with Hawke kept replaying in her head, pulling at the strings of her sanity and torturing her slowly. After the mage had fallen on the floor, Isabella had hit her over the head with a rather large book and she was knocked unconscious. Even now Isabela couldn't decide if she did it out of anger or out of selfish desire. Once the mage was knocked unconscious she gathered her up in her arms and cradled her. Isabella felt the need to cry, so cry she did as she cradled the mage she had developed too strong of feelings for.

"Why Hawke? Why have you become like this?" She pulled her closer. "I can't be what you want me to be, I'm sorry, I really am. I…" Isabela choked on her tears as she nestled in the crevice of Hawke's neck, "I have to let you go, don't I?"

That night she had told Hawke how she really felt, she had held Hawke the way she had always wanted to but never could, and she had vowed to give up the mage for good as she lay her in her bed at the estate. With a chaste kiss to the mage's lips, Isabella said goodbye. However saying goodbye was a lot easier than actually moving on and giving up. Isabella had thought about leaving Kirkwall, but duty kept her stationed until she could retrieve her relic, and seeing Hawke from afar was unavoidable.

Varric had advised her to make good with the mage, but that was so uncharacteristic of her that she knew Hawke would see right through it. She didn't want to make good with the mage; she wanted to make something a lot more hot and steamy with the mage than good could cover. Seeing her with that beautiful, charismatic girl didn't help things either. Hawke was laughing, smiling and shining brilliantly more and more, day by day… without her. That was the truth, though, wasn't it? Hawke never needed her and would never need her, and that was the way Isabela felt most comfortable. The pirate slammed her fist as a knot of pain twisted in her chest; why then did she feel so miserable? Why did she wish for Hawke to look at her the way she looked at the Ferelden dog who somehow knew how to wield a bow? She could easily get a number of eyes to follow her, and a number of gazes to imagine they were in love with her, but she wanted Hawke's gaze.

Then came the day when Hawke's gaze fell upon her and looked to her for comfort and answers. That's the day when Isabella caved in and ran as far and fast as she could from the eyes full of sorrow and loss.


	9. Chapter 9: A Final Request to Smile

A/N: Well this chapter isn't exactly the happiest… I suppose it has to get worse before it gets any better. Thanks once again for everyone's advice, input and encouraging reviews.

Chapter 9: A Final Request to Smile

With her ice-tipped staff lodged in the Arishok's chest, the duel was over and the city free from Qunari occupation, yet something didn't bode well in the mage's heart. She dislodged her staff easy enough and scanned furiously for the girl that had charged the entrance to provide them a distraction. Hawke had advised her to stay out of it and let the First Enchanter handle it, but the bow woman followed her own sense of fate. The nobles began to cry 'Champion,' but Hawke's mind was elsewhere until the Knight-Commander rushed through the doors, and along with Meredith came Arya limp in her arms. She tried to find some hope and comfort in Meredith's eyes but they were as hard and cold as ice when she handed Arya over. Hawke took hold of the girl, cradled her in her arms, ignored the roar of cheers surrounding them, and as she clutched tighter to the girl her mind drifted back to a warmer time.

. . .

"You shouldn't be too nervous, Mother is a gracious host." Hawke walked alongside the long, raven-haired woman she had come to love. "She'll be happy to finally meet you, she's always taken an interest in the women–" Hawke bit her tongue as she realized what she was about to say. "Not that there were many!"

Arya chuckled and took that moment to stop and pull her blushing mage towards her. "Perhaps you're the nervous one, hmm?" She planted a gentle and slow kiss on the mage's lips. "She's met Isabela hasn't she?"

"Well met isn't exactly the right word." Hawke murmured as she recalled the context in which her and Isabela were usually involved.

"But she knew you two were together?" Arya kept her lilac eyes on Hawke's piercing blue ones.

'Maker did she,' Hawke blushed at the memory before responding, "Yes, she did, but never in the way you're about to meet her. This is much more… planned, for one, and polite."

Arya raised an eyebrow to what she could possibly mean by 'polite' and what it meant that Isabela's visits were never 'polite.' She smirked and decided it was probably best not to dwell on it too much as she continued to walk to Hawke's estate.

"I'll try my best not to disappoint." Arya concluded.

"That's fairly impossible." Hawke winked and took the Fereldan's hand, "You're beautiful, kind and above all you're the closest thing to normal that I've ever courted."

"Yes well telling her what kind of family I'm from won't exactly come out as a normal upbringing, will it? And…" Arya was afraid to give voice to her next inquiry. "You're mother doesn't mind that I'm… well that I'm a girl?"

Hawke burst into laughter as they drew up to the estate. If her mother had a problem with her courting women, she surely would have disowned Hawke by now. Hawke continued to laugh until she noticed Arya fidgeting nervously beside her.

"Don't worry, she's well aware of my preferences." Hawke took her hand and gave it a kiss for reassurance.

Hawke opened the door for Arya and advised her to leave her bow near the chewed up mat. Her mabari quickly recognized the girl that had accompanied his master as of late and greeted her with a playful bark. Arya smiled and gave the mabari a pat on his head, which caused him to loll his tongue to the side. He rolled on the floor and paddled his paws in the air as if asking for a belly rub.

"He certainly is fond of you." Arya looked up to find a very beautiful lady of stature descending the stairs. "It's nice to finally meet you, my dear." Leandra gave the girl a hug.

"The pleasure's all mine."

Hawke watched with a warm smile as the two women she held dearest to her embraced in salutation. She had wanted the two to meet for some time now, but something always managed to keep their plans from commencing.

Their dinner was pleasant enough and although Leandra asked a few personal and embarrassing questions, neither Hawke nor Arya were scarred the worse for it. Leandra watched the two keenly, and was not surprised at her daughter's attraction for the Fereldan. The girl was well built and had features that would usually mark her as nobility if it were not for her common upbringing that she claimed to have. However, Hawke could not fool her mother, this was not the same love she fostered for the pirate. Leandra had wondered why she no longer heard her daughter and the pirate at play at Maker awful hours of the night. Her daughter was happy enough with this new beauty, and the girl seemed honest and loving, but was Marian merely settling for comfort. She watched a bit longer and witnessed how the two interacted playfully, and decided to blurt out, "Will you be staying the night, Arya?"

Arya choked on the wine she had just pushed passed her lips and coughed before she could answer. It had not slipped into her mind that Hawke's mother would make such a proposition as that. Her eyes nervously slid to look at Hawke and found that she was also in a state of confusion. Leandra watched as both remained silent and concluded that her daughter hadn't bedded the woman yet. Was she waiting out of propriety, or was she still hooked on Isabela?

"Arya has a room at the Hanged Man and pays good money for it." Hawke interjected but it was a half-hearted claim.

"The Hanged Man? Poor dear aren't you slightly uncomfortable in such a setting?"

"It suits me fine. I've made friends there and when it gets too rowdy I can safely retire to my room."

"If ever you need a breath of fresh air, I'm sure Marian wouldn't mind you staying. Maker knows she's old enough to not need my permission, and she's never asked for it anyways." Leandra left it at that and rose from the table. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Arya. You must come by more often; a lady's company is always enjoyable. Perhaps Marian will be more inclined to attend balls with me if you come along as well."

Arya thanked her for her hospitality and agreed to attend at least one ball. Afterwards, Hawke sighed and apologized for any uncomfortable position her mother might have put her in.

"I didn't mind…" Arya gave Hawke's hand a squeeze. "I've been meaning to ask, do you think it'd be alright," Arya felt her head spin slightly as she finished her sentence, "if I stay the night?"

Hawke sat still and felt her body heat up. If Arya stayed the night, Hawke would feel inclined to make love to her and she wasn't sure she would be able to. Ever since she stopped seeing Isabela, she had a serious decrease in her libido and felt comfortable not doing anything sexual. She lifted her blue eyes to see anxious lilac eyes staring right back at hers.

"Arya, I… I'm afraid." Hawke admitted and sighed in defeat.

"Afraid?" Arya drew her chair closer to Hawke's, "of what?"

"Of not doing things right with you."

Arya let out a light laugh as she cupped Hawke's chin. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not going to pounce." She winked and Hawke's cheeks tinged with red.

"I didn't say you were, it's just, well I assumed–" Hawke stuttered.

"I'll move as fast or slow as you move." Arya's voice became velvety and lulled the mage from her previous stuttering spell.

Hawke felt Arya's soft lips meld with hers and would have forgot that Sandal was standing right beside her if it weren't for his funny little chuckle. Hawke quickly turned to look to her right and found the dwarf staring at her absent-mindedly.

"Sandal? Isn't it about time you went to bed?" Hawke was confused by his appearance since he was usually by the enchantment table or off with her mabari companion.

"Boom!" He shouted sporadically and placed a small rune in her hands.

"Uh, yes thank you Sandal." Hawke turned back to Arya who had an arched brow. "It's just what he does sometimes."

"And just when I was making some progress." Arya mocked her disappointment as she rose from the table and headed towards the fireplace.

Hawke followed the bow woman to the main room and stood behind her. The Fereldan was one of the few women that managed to be of equal height to the mage, and Hawke was glad for it. As she wrapped her arms around the girl's torso, she pulled her closer and nestled her lips into the crevice of Arya's neck. She smelled wonderfully sweet and tasted just so as Hawke moved her lips up the line of her neck.

"Stay with me tonight." Hawke murmured in the girl's ear.

"Is that what you really want Hawke?" Arya whispered back but kept her eyes on the fire.

Hawke decided this question couldn't be answered with words and used her lips for better purposes than speech. She suckled gently on Arya's tender neck until she reached the corner of her smile. She eased the girl's head so that she could kiss her lips fully and hoped that the bow woman would be able to feel the passion she had pent up. Arya felt her knees buckle and would have fell to the floor if Hawke hadn't been behind to support her slender body. The mage's hands roamed across the other's curves, lightly and slow. The bow woman was taken aback by Hawke's display of lustful affection– she was usually reserved about taking it too far. However any thoughts of Hawke's objection went out the window as the mage cupped Arya's breast and began to slowly massage her in all the right places. Arya let out a moan but then quickly tried to suck it back in realizing how loud she had been. Hawke chuckled mischievously and stopped her fondling; they needed to retreat to her room. Hawke took her by the hand and led her up the stairs. Arya's heart raced as Hawke pulled her into the room and held her in her arms.

"I'd like to give myself to you, if you'll have me." Hawke whispered in her ear causing a light thrill to course down Arya's spine and a flutter to erupt in her abdomen.

"I've always wanted you, Hawke." Arya sighed with bliss as she felt Hawke's hands undo her tunic. "I'll try not to disappoint."

"Doubtful." Hawke cupped her face and let her blue eyes link to the lilac eyes of her lover. They were glazed over with admiration, a pinch of lust and lathered in love. She loved the Fereldan more than she could fathom, and for once Isabela did not cross her mind.

After that night, Hawke was astounded and satisfied at the competency of her lover. Only after their lovemaking was over did Hawke think about Isabela and how different their rutting had been to her time with Arya. The bow woman had been slow, sometimes torturously so, and tender with her touch. When the mage woke she wasn't alone and the arms wrapped around her were not her own– this was different. Isabela had never stayed the night, nor did she believe in cuddling. Arya on the other hand was as affectionate and considerate as one could possibly be. Hawke held her that morning and smiled– her heart was beginning to finally heal.

. . .

Hawke held the girl in her arms and thought darkness should also feel inclined to wrap around her too, when a magical sound caressed her ears. She pushed her head harder against Arya's tunic and found the remnant beats of a dying heart.

"Arya?" Hawke's voice cracked as she held the bleeding girl in her arms. "Arya!" Hawke summoned what little magic she had left to try and heal the massive wound that the girl's abdomen suffered. "Please…" her magic waned as her strength faded and her eyes closed.

"H…awke." A small voice spoke. "Don't…" Arya weakly pulled her hand to brush a tear from the newly named Champion's face.

Hawke held her hand tightly and brought it to her lips– she was so cold!

"I'm so sorry." Hawke murmured as she kissed her hand.

"Just smile." The light in Arya's eyes was fading and a final memory passed through her mind.

. . .

As fate would have it, the mage's heart would not be left to happiness for long. In a month's time Hawke's mother had been abducted by none other than the killer of women she had been hunting down with Emeric for years. She should have protected her, warned her of the white lilies that were his damned trademark, and told her to be wary of suitors. With Carver in the Grey Wardens and her mother gone forever, Hawke felt the ground beneath her lose tangibility and she began to free fall. If it hadn't been for Arya staying with her every night and consoling the mage, Hawke would have burrowed in anger and bitterness until the very light she represented became completely shrouded in darkness.

Arya rose from their bed and gently laid Hawke's head on a nearby pillow. She cried every night and sometimes she wasn't even awake when the tears came. It broke her heart to see her lover in such a state, but there was nothing more she could do than hold her tight and force her to eat. Hawke was a strange creature when it came to grief, or so the Fereldan thought as she rested her arms on the ledge near the chandelier. Unlike many people she knew, Hawke was fully able to go out and pretend that she was taking her mother's death fine. While they were out on missions and helping out Aveline or one of her other companions, the mage was smiling and laughing all the while. It wasn't until she got home that the sadness seeped under her skin and made her want to crawl under her covers. Arya stood by the portrait of Hawke's mother and recalled all the pleasant memories she had made with the elderly woman. She would have continued to remember, if it weren't for a slight rustle of sound that caused her to be on alert. She quickly ran towards Hawke's room and just as quickly stopped as she peered through the crack in the door– it was Isabela. She watched as the rogue sat by Hawke's bedside and gently brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead. Her amber eyes were soft, as they looked down at the mage's worn out appearance.

Arya slowly backed away from the door, but a piece of her robe caught on the wood and pulled it ajar slightly more than it had been before. The rogue took notice of this immediately and made to escape, but stopped when Arya commanded her to.

"Don't leave!" Arya spoke barely above a whisper for fear of waking Hawke.

Isabela muttered at her damned luck but made no move to exit through whichever means she had used to break in. The rogue walked out of the room and stood near the stairs, indicating that she would talk where Hawke would be sure not to hear her. Arya followed after taking one last caring glance at the mage.

"Why come at night?"

"When else would I come?" Isabela muttered and looked away from Arya's prodding eyes. "All other times of the day she's too busy putting up a façade of happiness." Isabela sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "She's being an idiot, that fool."

"She's lost her mother. It's all she can do to keep strong." Arya tried to rally to Hawke's defense but even she felt that it was half-hearted.

"Don't be just as fool hearted" Isabela snapped back, "she's got friends, you know; she doesn't need to be strong all the time… she's got friends like Varric, Fenris, Anders, Merrill, Aveline and you."

"And you." Arya concluded with a smile.

"You know, you're too nice for your own good. I'm not your friend, and I'm not Hawke's… we just… well what does it matter?" Isabela threw her hands in the air and began to descend down the stairs. "Just…" her eyes turned soft once more, "take care of her, alright? I can't have her all depressed when it comes time to retrieve my relic."

Arya nodded and watched as the rogue slinked back into the shadows and disappeared into the night. She was almost certain that this wasn't the first night Isabela had snuck into Hawke's estate or watched her sleep. The mage had all but forgotten the rogue she had once loved but it was a topic that was forbidden for Arya to bring up. Hawke was already sad as it was, and bringing up Isabela would be another source of sorrow. Although the two somewhat conversed with each other it was always formal and business-like.

Arya returned, nestled beside Hawke and let the mage rest on her chest. Tomorrow would be another day and there was the possibility that Hawke would feel better, or in the very least give her a genuine smile. Arya waited for that smile until her very last breathe.

. . .

"I…" Hawke wanted to deny the ability to smile, but she saw that the girl was struggling to stay alive, and that this was her last request so she smiled. She smiled as she watched Arya's lilac eyes dilate and her lips curve into a small smile– she was gone.

Hawke let the smile fade away as her lover grew ever more limp in her arms; she was alone after all.

"Hawke," A voice called out to her and the mage responded.

She looked at the pirate with eyes that begged for an answer; an answer that Isabela could not supply. The rogue knew Hawke was dying on the inside, that her heart was now completely shattered, but this was never Isabela's forte. She couldn't fix the darkness that followed Hawke from the Deep Roads, nor the loss she felt when her mother was murdered, and now that her lover had been slain during the Qunari revolt Isabela felt even less sure of her role. True she had come back with the Tome of Koslun, but she hadn't expected _this_ to happen. If she knew this was going to happen, simply put, she would have never returned.

"Why Isabela, why? Everyone… I love…" Tears rushed down the Champion's face as she struggled to compose herself.

Varric and Aveline, with the help of the Knight-Commander began to clear out the nobles that had been taken as hostages, so that Hawke would have the proper privacy to mourn Arya's death. Merrill stood by, her big green eyes watery as she fretted on how to comfort Hawke. The elf nudged Isabela who shrugged her shoulders in response, but after another puppy-dog look from the elf, she sighed in defeat. The rogue sat by the mage and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry…" Isabela was at a loss of what to say. She looked upon Arya's face and felt a pang of guilt strike her thieving heart. Hawke would surely blame her for her lover's death. If she hadn't taken the Tome of Koslun, then Arya might have been spared.

"She wanted to help, and I… I let her…" Hawke let out a moan of regret as she lay the girl on the floor.

"No sweet thing you didn't let her die. This isn't your fault." Isabela pulled the grieving Hawke towards her and brushed her hair. "Blame me, hate me. My selfishness has caused you so much pain." The rogue whispered in her ear.

Hawke felt the rogue begin to rise and knew that Isabela was going to leave. Hawke clutched on to her shirt and pulled her back down. The mage was pushing her limits, after her battle with the Arishok she was bruised and bashed to the point of almost losing consciousness. She had dueled for Isabela much to the rogue's discomfort and guilt.

"Don't leave… I…" Hawke searched for the words that would make her stay. "I… could never hate you."

"Then you're a fool." Isabela retorted as she pulled the mage off of her.

Hawke didn't have the strength to grasp Isabela again, nor did she have the heart to keep fighting. The pirate watched as the Champion slid on the floor in defeat. Her body was cut in several places and it was all because she agreed to a duel for Isabela's freedom. She should have refused the duel, and blown up everything like she usually does. Duels were for romantics, a proof of love and respect, a show of strength and command– none of these things she expected from Hawke, yet all of these things she had proven to her. It was all too much for the pirate and as Hawke looked up at her with watery eyes, Isabela did what she knew how to do best– she disappeared on the ocean waters and turned her back on the woman she was afraid to love.


	10. Chapter 10: Return

A/N: So this chapter is obviously shorter than most of the previous ones. However I wanted to get something out to my readers this week, and since the last chapter wasn't the happiest, I wanted to write something a bit warmer. Thanks for the continued readership and enjoy!

Chapter 10: Return

Hawke sat silently underneath the giant oak tree on the outskirts of Kirkwall, which resided far enough from the Wounded Coast to be considered hospitable. The hustle and bustle of the city was gone, and the Champion could hear nothing but the rustling of the leaves and the whispers of the wind. Her eyes trailed the ground and rested upon a small but well kept statue in the distance. She got up and walked towards the erected statue and upon coming to the white, obelisk-shaped monument, kneeled at its base.

"I've brought you some hydrangeas…" Hawke sighed as she laid them down, "your favorite, right?" The champion kept her head bent down, her forehead practically touching the stone base. "Feros wishes you would come visit; he knows you're the only one that is prone to his charms enough to give him cutlets of veal." Hawke continued to speak in a hushed tone.

After moments of silence passed, Hawke extended her limbs and laid her body flat on the cool grass and dirt. She lay flat and closed her eyes. Somewhere below her were the remains of her past lover, and for nearly three years Hawke had been visiting and laying on the ground routinely. She wondered if Arya could see her from wherever she was; if she could feel her through the multiple layers of dirt. All her comrades had expressed worry over her daily routine but none dared to intervene, although Merrill did accompany her from time to time. The strange elf did not fully understand what Hawke was doing when she lay on the dirt but she followed suit and smiled at her forlorn comrade anyways. Merrill had been the most shocked by Isabela's disappearance and could not fathom why she had left Hawke three years ago when the mage needed her most. The elf was fine company enough, but she knew that Hawke's heart could not be healed by her words or her touch because what the mage had lost, the elf had never really known or discovered as of yet, so she just kept by her side and mourned in her own way.

"It'll be my birthday soon… I can't believe how old I've gotten since coming to Kirkwall." The mage felt older than she should have; wizened by misfortune and ravaged by pain. "I remember the first time you celebrated my birthday with me. You baked me a cake and everything. You even threw me a small party… I…" Hawke bit down on her lip as she clutched at her aching chest, "I miss you."

The sun began to sink past the horizon and shadows quickly caressed the mage. Hawke shivered as a rushing wind whirled by carrying the essence of cold in its twirling arms. She wanted to nestle further in the ground and hoped to find warmth there that she had lost, but the dirt and grass were too compact for her to dig through. The champion rose to her knees and placed a light kiss on the monument before she left. It was cold and hard… nothing like Arya, but all she had left of her former Fereldan lover.

Tomorrow would mark the day that Arya had been taken from her, the day she had been born and the day Isabela had left her. It seemed wrong that so much should be renewed in such a short mark of time, but the mage could do nothing about it. As the sun rose, and the Champion with it, change began to rise as well. Hawke understood that her companions would most likely be planning some kind of festivity to celebrate her birthday, or possibly to ease the remembrance of Arya's death, or both actually. It never bothered Hawke that they tried their best to aid her in recovering from her sorrow, but sometimes she felt even more pressured to please them than in actually recovering. Often times she would just wear a mask of happiness and that was enough, for the most part.

The Champion completed the menial tasks given to her throughout the day from various sources, and after visiting Aveline, agreed to having a small party at her estate for the sake of her friend's comfort. The time lurched forward and Hawke felt weaker and weaker as it did. They all arrived one by one until no one was missing except for Merrill. This was strange to Hawke, who knew the elf was probably the one who suggested the party to Aveline in the first place, and decided she would go retrieve Merrill herself. The rest agreed to wait up until the frolicking elf could be found, and busied themselves with decorating and preparing dishes.

When Hawke appeared at the alienage, a neighboring vendor near Merrill's humble abode told her that the elf had gone to the tavern in search of a gift. Hawke chuckled lightly and wondered what in the world Merrill would be planning to give her that could be gotten from the Hanged Man. Chance, by now, was fully awake and as he would have it, the mage just missed the quirky elf exiting from the Hanged Man. Merrill had just left when the mage entered and scanned the room for her big, green eyes, but none were to be found, instead she found a pair of amber eyes resting heavily upon her. She was stunned, frozen, paralyzed. Isabela had been gone for three years, or would have been exactly on this day. Before long the pirate signaled for the mage to join her at the bar, and before Hawke could choose whether or not to go, her body moved forward.

She sat, never taking her eyes off of the rogue, and felt her heart pound against her chest at an uncomfortable pace. Isabela nervously shifted her gaze towards her empty mug and sighed.

"Look Hawke, I already told Merrill I wasn't going."

Hawke wondered if she had even really woken up today or if her dreams were playing some cruel trick on her. Isabela's voice sounded so real yet so far away. Hawke remained in a stupor, unable to speak and too afraid to possibly wake up.

"Andraste's tits Hawke say something!" Isabela slammed her mug on the bar.

"I… I'm not sure if you're real." Hawke managed to speak.

Isabela frowned at the honest confusion in the mage's voice and moved her hand to grasp the mages. She gaze it a light squeeze and quickly pulled it away before the mage could latch on.

"I'm real, sweet thing." Isabela wore a sad smile as she looked in the mage's piercing blue eyes. "Anyways I told Merrill I wouldn't go… I don't deserve to."

"Merril? Go where?" Hawke was barely coming to.

"To your damned party. She assured me that I would be the perfect…" Isabela looked away as she muttered, "gift."

"Gift?" Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"Damn Hawke did you go brain dead while I was away?" Isabela jested as she lightly slapped her thigh.

"Perhaps…" Hawke let a small smile out. "It'd be impossible to get you in a box nicely laced up without you ripping it to shreds anyways."

Isabela chuckled, "now there's the Hawke I know."

"You deserve to come… you don't deserve to stay away." Hawke suddenly shifted the tone of her voice, which caused the rogue some level of surprise.

"I don't deserve or not deserve anything." Isabela retorted childishly as she backed away from the leaning mage.

"I wonder what you'll make of this then." The mage spoke in a dangerous tone, somewhere in between desire, love and vengeance. She backed the rogue against the wall and pushed her lips hungrily on the pirate's. She could care less if the rogue wanted it or not; she could care less if she wanted it or not.

"Hawke, stop." Isabela managed to say as she pulled Hawke's face from hers.

"Why?"

Isabela ventured into Hawke's eyes and found them hauntingly empty.

"What do you mean why?" She shoved the mage angrily, "Because I said so, that's why."

Hawke stumbled as she was thrown back but regained her footing quickly enough. Directly in front of her stood her former pirate queen and she looked like the perfect embodiment of anger and spite.

"It's what you owed me in the very least." Hawke muttered as she looked down at the ground– this was not how she wanted this to happen. "A kiss. Either for winning the duel all those three years ago or…" Hawke felt her chest tighten, "to say goodbye. You should have said goodbye, Isabela." Hawke turned quickly to leave.

She didn't give the pirate any time to react and half expected her to never show up in her life again. However that was all pushed to the back of her mind, or as far back as she could force it, while she was enjoying the small banquet held in her honor. Merrill had arrived on her own which caused the others to worry about Hawke's disappearance, but upon the Champion arriving everything commenced in a splendid manner. They all drank to their hearts content and dined on fine meats and bread all through the night. Hawke wanted to ask Merrill about Isabela, but the poor elf had long since drank past her normal limitations and had taken ill. Gradually each of the Champion's companions bid her farewell and left for their homes.

Hawke threw herself on her large bed and hoped that the alcohol would grant her rest and make this Maker awful day end already. Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt that rest would soon overcome her, until a rattling of metal could be heard nearby. Hawke looked to the side and saw a familiar shadow creeping her way. As it neared the light, Hawke was able to make out Isabela's features. The rogue sat next to the sprawled out mage and spoke.

"I didn't come back just to fight with you." Isabela began, "I'm sorry."

Hawke wondered if she should drink anymore of that strange wine that Varric had given her. Now she was having strange visions of Isabela apologizing and that was far crueler than any other fictitious fantasy yet.

"You've gone stupid again, I see." Isabela put on a wily smile as she positioned herself to straddle the dumbstruck mage. "I may not be too good at apologizing with words but," she planted a kiss on the mage's lips, "I'm quite good at this." She began to trail her kisses on the edge of Hawke's jaw and along her untouched neck.

Hawke allowed herself to be undressed and busied her hands with unraveling the pirate's intricate laces until she was just as naked. As Hawke sat there completely naked with Isabela on her lap, she realized how gentle her pirate queen was being; how patient she was as Hawke threw her corset on the floor. It was usually at this point when Isabela would push her roughly against the bed and place her in all sorts of strange, but highly pleasurable, positions, yet that's not what happened. Instead, Isabela let her honey eyes glaze over the champion's blue ones and they seemed to swirl as Hawke's lit with life. They were so different compared to the lifeless husks they had been at the tavern; an emptiness that scared even Isabela. Hawke blushed as Isabela caressed her face and gently laid her on the bed; none of this was familiar. A surge of emotion was fixing dead center on the mage's chest and she felt it tighten as Isabela dropped nearer to her body. She couldn't wait any longer; her emotions would tear her apart if she did, so Hawke pulled Isabela on top of her so that the pirate's flesh would meld with hers. She didn't mean to cry, but it was what she did as she burrowed her face into the crevice of Isabela's neck.

"Shhh…" Isabela hushed the mage and kissed at her tears. "I…" Isabela wanted to say what she had spent three years thinking over, but Hawke's lips silenced her.

Suddenly the mage's desire did more than silence her as their positions changed and Hawke now straddled the pirate. She touched all the places she knew Isabela was most sensitive at and reveled in the moans of her long lost lover. Each place she touched, she felt her fingertips burn and wondered if that was her magic at play or simply Isabela's affect on her. Hawke receded her hands from the pirate's supple body and used them instead to hold down Isabela's wrists at her sides. It had been so long since the mage had tasted the rogue or anyone at all. She bit on Isabela's neck and lightly sucked to produce a throaty groan from her partner. Her lips hummed as she trailed a path lower, caressing every delicate spot with her tongue. At long last she arrived to her destination and knew just what to do to make Isabela cry her name in ecstasy. So she did just that and flicked, sucked and stroked until her pirate was right at the edge, however it wasn't fair unless Hawke was there too. She returned to Isabela's lips and kissed her so that their tongues could revel in reunion, and placed her so that their cores would be able to also revel in union. Hawke knew the pace that would unwind Isabela slowly and began to move her hips. Isabela had never done it quite like this with Hawke, or anyone for that matter, and although she wouldn't admit that it was to her preference, she had to admit that it was rather good. Hawke couldn't remember the last time she called out Isabela's name as she just had, but Isabela had been calling out Hawke's name regardless if it was actually Hawke she was making love to. Hawke crashed into her lover and lay on top of her so that her pounding heart would have another beat to follow. Isabela wrapped her arms around the mage and pulled her closer– she was so different from the sea. Constant, warm, soft, these were the things she had come to miss while she was out on the vast sea.

"I have to go Hawke." Isabela murmured into her ear.

Hawke looked up, worry and confusion in her eyes.

"Back to the tavern, I mean." Isabela chuckled as she sat up. "I'll be there if you need me."

"I need you." Hawke quickly responded and held on to her arm.

"I'm almost positive you're already spent and so am I." Isabela knew what she was asking for, and although she wouldn't mind, it wasn't her custom. "I can't stay."

"Please…" Hawke pulled gently, "stay."

Isabela pulled her arm away from the mage's grasp and felt a crack form at the base of her heart as she saw Hawke's defeated gaze rest on her. This was too much; she hadn't expected the sex to go in the direction it had gone in. She thought she would come in here and apologize to Hawke the way she had always done when she hurt Hawke one way or another, but something was different.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Isabela smiled as she headed out. "I can't change overnight you know." She finally sighed as she stopped at Hawke's bedroom door.

"Overnight?" Hawke clenched the blanket in her fist. "Isabela… it's been three years. I…" Hawke wasn't sure what she wanted to say.

"I need some time Hawke. I did come back for what it's worth I don't quite know." Isabela quickly exited before the mage could get underneath her skin again.

That night the mage slept with a small ember in her heart barely flickering with light as she nestled in the cold darkness that she had been accustomed to for these three years. The rogue didn't sleep at all as she contemplated whether or not to go back to Hawke or stay true to herself, and hated the fact that she was even contemplating sleeping overnight in Hawke's bed.


End file.
